


When the Sun Rises, I will...

by Harry1981



Series: When the Sun Rises [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Amused Gandalf, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, As the story moves forward, Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield Fluff, Bilbo needs a hug, Cabbage Patch Hobbits, Domestic Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Dragon Sickness, Drama & Romance, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Dwarves don't know, Dwarves in Erebor, Erebor, Established Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Established Relationship, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Gandalf Ships It, Gold Sick Thorin, Gold Sickness (Tolkien), Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Hobbit Culture & Customs, Implied Mpreg, Lake-town, Love, M/M, Marriage, Married Couple, Mirkwood, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poor Bilbo, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Quest of Erebor, Rivendell | Imladris, Romance, Sneaky Gandalf, Soft Husbands, gold - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:28:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 153,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25263112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harry1981/pseuds/Harry1981
Summary: Bilbo Baggins of Bag End was not a very respectable Hobbit. No respectable Hobbit had a sword and crossbow hanging in their home, nor did they have Dwarves as family. But Bilbo Baggins did, and all of Shire knew of his husband, blacksmith Thorin Oakenshield.When Bilbo comes home to find his Husband earlier than expected, he learns of a quest to reclaim Erebor. It is a death mission. Bilbo knows that Dwarves are stubborn creatures, and none more than Thorin himself. But nobody said that Bilbo himself was any less stubborn.So he will follow his dearest husband across all of Middle Earth, through plains and mountains and forests, all while hiding the true nature of their relationship (Dwarven politics never helped anyone), brushing off some old wounds (and getting new ones) and finding out new things about the dwarf Bilbo calls husband (and his extended family).Nobody ever said love was easy, after all.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Frerin (Tolkien)/Original Character(s), Kíli (Tolkien)/Tauriel (Hobbit Movies), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: When the Sun Rises [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1899205
Comments: 947
Kudos: 976





	1. See you once more

**Author's Note:**

> EEEEP! I entered the Hobbit fandom very very recently and I cannot believe that I have already read half of the stories. But with reading more stories comes the fact that there are no more stories left to read. So here I am, writing my own story. 
> 
> This is heavily AU, and a lot of tropes from different fanfictions will appear here. That being said, I do not own them, but I do own this idea. This will be long and fun, and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I am enjoying writing these. 
> 
> On to the story!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT NOTE: 18/2/21
> 
> Hello Peeps. I will be going over my stuff over a course of time, till I update the sequel- the proper some thirty chapter sequel that is- and making a few changes. Don't mind me, just fixing some very obvious mistakes that I was too tired of before.

Bilbo Baggins of Bag End was not a very respectable Hobbit. All across the Shire, he was called ‘Mad Baggins’ by most, if not all. No respectable Hobbit had a sword and crossbow hanging in their home, nor did they have Dwarves as a family or immediate kin. But Bilbo Baggins did, and for that, he was not a respectable Hobbit.

Despite being the odd one out, Bilbo Baggin was respectful towards the other Hobbits. He laughed with Proudfoots, had ale and pipe with the Brandybucks, planted prize-winning tomatoes with the help of the Gamgees and threw the best birthday parties in all of Shire. Fauntlings rushed to him for stories from far and beyond. One could knock at his door on any of mealtimes, and he would entertain them with the best delicacies known to Hobbits.

He would entertain every single family, except the Sackville-Bagginses.

The whole of Middle Earth could plead with him but Bilbo would rather embrace his Baggins side and become a respectable, well-known Hobbit of the Shire before getting into a conversation with the Sackville-Bagginses.

That is precisely how Bilbo Baggins found himself running across the Hobbiton market, clutching his meat and fish in a tightly wrapped brown parcel. Lobelia Sackville-Baggins was right on her heels, keeping up with his pace and at the same time chatting with other Hobbit lasses. She had very keen eyes, and Proudfoot seemed very content to tell her where Bilbo had run off to in exchange for sharing a moment to truly appreciate the beauty his pig was.

Bilbo sighed and a ran a hand through his curls. He wanted to buy some of the scones, but clearly, that was not going to happen. He knew that Lobeila would never follow him to Bag End until it was her monthly visit to inform him how he was not at all a Baggins and that Bag End should be given to them.

Muttering to himself, Bilbo almost jogged back to his house, muttering a hello to Hamfest Gamgee on his way. He opened the small gate and rushed inside, almost dropping his groceries on the stairs. He looked back, to make sure that racket of colours was not following him. Once at his green door, he put down his meat and fish and reached inside his pocket. Pulling out a key with a triumphant ‘Aha’, Bilbo pushed it into the keyhole. The moment he did so, however, the green round door automatically opened up.

‘That’s odd’, thought Bilbo, ‘Very odd indeed’.

Bilbo’s ears perked up as a sound from his kitchen reached his pointy ears. A soft clashing of pans, followed with a thundering mumble. A string of words that were not Westron, but clearly Khudzul.

It couldn’t be, surely.

Bilbo had received no letter, no messages from the ravens. The Thain had not written to him of any official visits either.

Picking up his parcels, Bilbo stepped inside, only for the voice to grow louder. Oh, oh! He was indeed there!

Bilbo dropped the parcels on the ground and let out a squeak. He hurried down and turned to his left, only to see his Dwarf standing in the kitchen, a pan and a kettle in his hands, looking like a cat caught with its paws in milk.

But the expression softened as soon as he finally realized who stood in front of the fireplace and he let out a soft smile.

“Bilbo.”

Bilbo broke out into a run. Dropping the pan and the kettle, the Dwarf caught the Hobbit in his arms and pulled him into a kiss, both laughing as he twirled Bilbo around in the kitchen.

“Thorin!” Bilbo let out a laugh, as he was settled down on his feet, “Thorin Oakenshield, were you going to tell me that you were coming back?”

Thorin smiled gently, pushing Bilbo’s curls back. “And miss your reaction? I think not, _ghivashel_.”

He couldn’t help but blush. Bilbo knew what that word meant and Thorin used it more often than not. Thorin said he liked to see the blush appear on Bilbo’s face and Bilbo could let him have it, sure.

Frowning, Bilbo asked, “And what exactly were you doing in it kitchen?”

“Ah,” Thorin said, realizing just then he had dropped the pan and the kettle, “I was hoping to get the Afternoon Tea in order before you came back.”

Bilbo’s heart swelled as Thorin continued, “But you have moved the tea packets yes again and I could not truly understand what to make for you. The bread basket was missing and you only have a cherry jam.”

“Dear,” Bilbo cupped the Dwarf’s face, “You have many talents, but cooking is not one of them.”

Thorin frowned, “I can make a good stew.”

“That’s for filling your stomach, not eating,” Bilbo clicked his tongue, pulling back and walking to the entrance, “I would say, sit down and smoke your pipe while I fix us a good afternoon tea. I have a cake, some meat from last night. Got a good fish today too.”

Thorin chuckled as Bilbo carried his parcels into the kitchen. “And meanwhile you can tell me why you decided to stop by so suddenly. Without informing me first! Not that I am complaining, but what if I were out on an adventure? I assure you, had I known...”

Whatever Bilbo was going to say next died on his lips as he saw Thorin. There was his frown back on his face, and the broody look that scared most of Hobbiton. Bilbo frowned- Thorin never made that face until he was truly troubled- which was, yes, all his life, but not with his husband.

“Thorin?”

Thorin looked up, still sporting the same expression.

Bilbo fidgeted. “Will we need tea for this conversation?”

Dread settled in Bilbo’s stomach as Thorin nodded. Bilbo immediately began to scurry around and talk about how the Shire had fared in the past few months that Thorin was gone. Thorin for his part said nothing as Bilbo set the table. Bilbo continued to talk- he never ran out of topics to speak about. He told Thorin of his recent adventures to the North, where he thought he spotted his mountains from a height. Eventually, he did get Thorin to smile when he animatedly told him of the Brandybucks trying to fish. 

Placing the two teacups, he poured out the tea and put the cake on the table. Thorin was fidgeting, but he smiled softly as Bilbo seated himself.

“So,” began Bilbo once they were settled, “What is it? Thorin? Husband dear?”

That got a quick smile from Thorin before it disappeared too. Bilbo reached out to Thorin, holding his much larger hands in his own small, softer ones. The dwarf sighed before massaging his head with the other hand.

“Bilbo,” he began slowly, “Do you remember Erebor?”

That got Bilbo’s attention, “Remember as in your stories, right? Yes, yes, of course, I remember Erebor. What kind of a husband do you think I am?”

Thorin chuckled at Bilbo’s offended face, “A very good one if I must say so myself.”

Bilbo smiled. Thorin pulled Bilbo’s hand in his own. There it was again, the serious face.

“There have been potents of ravens moving back to the Lonely Mountain,” he said slowly as if to make sure that Bilbo got each and every word clearly, “I believe it is time to reclaim back the home we had lost.”

Bilbo blinked, pulling back his hand. He stared at Thorin, looking for a hint of a joke. Maybe teasing? But no, there was nothing. Thorin's face was serious. 

“I’m sorry?" he finally spoke, "I am not sure I heard that right.”

“You heard it perfectly well, _Ghivashel._ ”

Blinking, Bilbo leaned back. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Bilbo raised a finger, before dropping it. Thorin patiently waited as Bilbo tried to piece together his thoughts.

“You want to take back that mountain?” he finally said, looking at Thorin.

“My Home, yes.”

“The place which was overtaken by a Dragon?”

“Yes.”

“The one on the other side of the Misty Mountains?” 

“The very same.”

“Have you lost your mind, Thorin?”

Thorin sighed. By the looks of it, he was expecting that reaction. Bilbo watched in absolute confusion as Thorin looked at him with set eyes, firmly looking at Bilbo with a hard resolve.

“I am sure.”

Bilbo leaned back, tapping his foot impatiently. “Is an army going with you?”

Thorin’s silence was all the answer Bilbo needed.

“You are planning on reclaiming that mountain all alone????”

Thorin shook his head, "No! I am not foolish, Ghivashel.”

“It certainly seems so,” muttered Bilbo, rubbing his forehead.

“The sons of Fundin have pledged their loyalty to me,” continued Thorin, ignoring Bilbo’s mutterings, “and so have sons of Groin. Fili and Kili are insistent that they come, though they are still trying to get Dis’ approval. I have been hoping for a few more to come.”

Bilbo huffed. “So a group.”

“A company, if you will.”

Taking a deep breath, Bilbo sat back, “And what exactly happens once you have gotten a company?”

Thorin sat back straight too, looking at Bilbo like he was going to propose a deal. “We march to the mountain, obtain the King’s jewel and call upon all dwarrows to help us reclaim Erebor. As it is, the dragon has not stirred in 60 years. It might as well be dead.”

Utter silence descended upon the smial. Bilbo was still, in a way when he was in deep thought. Thorin slowly picked the cup and took a sip, watching the cogs in Bilbo's head turn. In a distance, fauntlings were laughing and playing and so quiet was the Hobbit-hole that even that sounded to be very close. 

“That’s your plan?” Bilbo finally spoke up, "Some ten-odd dwarves marching into an abandoned kingdom, getting a shiny stone and hoping the Dragon is dead?”

Thorin put down the cup, putting his hands together, “Even if it’s not dead, with the combined strength of all the dwarrows we will be able to win this battle.”

Bilbo sighed. “No.”

Thorin frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

“No!” Bilbo said louder, before standing up, “You are not going on this death mission.”

“I assure you, Bilbo,” Thorin said, his patience at the very edge, “I have no intention of dying.”

“All right, all right,” Bilbo paced in the kitchen, “For a moment I believe that you are able to finish this fool’s mission and win. You get back your mountain. You claim your birthright. What then? What about us? I doubt you will be able to make your way all across the Misty Mountains to see me! What do you plan to do?”

All that Bilbo got in reply was silence. When he turned to look at Thorin, his face was set in a stern, rock-like expression. Bilbo could feel the air leave his lungs.

“You...this isn’t goodbye, is it Thorin?”

That snapped the dwarf’s attention. He looked up at Bilbo, his eyes wide, before hurrying beside Bilbo.

“No! No, _ghivashel_. Not at all.” He put a hand on Bilbo’s cheek and Bilbo leaned into the touch.

“I have wronged for all of our married life," Thorin confessed softly, "I have had my reasons to do so. But Prince Consorts have existed. Once I am truly the King under the Mountain, nobody would be able to contest the integrity of our marriage. The Lords of Ered Luin do not take kindly to me and my family, and you know that if they knew that I had a spouse from another race-”

“Yes, yes, I know!” Bilbo sighed, “they would create a whole deal, get you thrown out, spread misinformation. We have been through this multiple times.”

Thorin reached out for Bilbo’s hand, a desperate open look on his face, “If we win this, I will have you by my side and no one shall be able to contest your position.”

“In case you have forgotten,” Bilbo said, not unkindly, “I am not a dwarf. I am a Hobbit. I doubt your people will take well to me even after you win over this mountain.”

“I will be a rightful king,” said Thorin, “And as the king, I will have you by my side. Once we reclaim Erebor, everyone will have to accept.”

Bilbo pulled back, fiddling with his hands. If Thorin's heart broke at the distance between them, he did not show it. He merely looked at Bilbo thinking. 

Meanwhile, Bilbo was thinking. There were fears deep within his heart, but he had always been too scared to voice them. With Thorin putting the option in front of him, Bilbo had a chance to say them out. To express himself, to let Thorin know. Making up his mind, Bilbo looked up at Thorin with a hardened gaze.

“And what if you die, Thorin?”

His voice broke at the end, but he kept his gaze pointed. Thorin let out a staggering breath, walking forward with the intent of holding him.

“Bilbo...”

“No, what if you fail?” demanded Bilbo, walking back, “What then? None of your kin is exactly going to come and tell me what happened, now, are they? Thorin, don’t you see the flaw in your plans?”

“It is a perilous journey,” said Thorin, his voice firm, “But a necessary one. Too long have my people lived on others’ mercy. When the time has come, I cannot step back from my duties.”

“Step back? Ha! You have given more to those Dwarrows that anybody else. You have given them a safe space, to grow and to thrive. You have given them shelter, food and cloth.”

“A king’s duty doesn’t stop at bare necessities, Bilbo," Thorin said firmly, "They deserve a home. We lost Moria, and we have lost Erebor. Dwarrows grow lesser with every passing season and this is not the way Dwarves of Erebor should live.”

Bilbo looked at Thorin for the longest time, “You have made up your mind, haven’t you?”

He did not reply in affirmative, but he also did not need to. “It is important to inform you before the departure. It is a journey spanning months, and it would not be an easy one.”

So, in a way, it was goodbye. With a nod, Bilbo turned around and busied himself in work. Thorin opened his mouth many times, to say something, but nothing truly felt right. Both sat in the silence of the kitchen, ignoring each other’s gazes.

* * *

“ _Have you heard? There is a dwarf blacksmith in the Shire!”_

_Bilbo was not sure which of his Took cousins had told him so. It had to be one of his Took cousins who had come over to formally invite Belladonna and Bungo Baggins for Thain's birthday party. He remembers that they were lazing in the back garden, gossiping about the new love stories in the Shire and the Elves spotted by one of them. Someone spoke over the voice of ten other tweens, and that had caught Bilbo's attention.  
_

_At first, he tried to ignore it, but curiosity got better of him. A Dwarf in Erebor- the mere chance of something like that happening was one in many. Nobody came to the Shire, except the Grey Wizard from time to time. Men thought them simple and Elves cute. Dwarves though, that was new.  
_

_With the leave of his parents, Bilbo sneaked into the market with some of the gardening tools. They were blunt, and his father had been complaining about getting them sharpened for ages. When he offered to take them, his father gave him such a proud smile for being a responsible young adult.  
_

_The blacksmith's corner was on one end of the Hobbiton market. It was previously maintained by a gruff Hobbit from Bree. He was Hobbit enough to barter for the price and it was only his mother who would be able to make a good barter. Bilbo kept himself away, more focused on sweets shop. But that day, Bilbo found himself quite intrigued by the darkness that fell over the shop._

“ _Hello? Mr Dwarf?”_

_There was no answer, and for a moment Bilbo wondered if his cousin had lied. There was a counter separating the inside from the outside and a bench at the corner.  
_

_Heavy footsteps answered his question, and soon enough a dwarf, bigger than him but much smaller than the elves Bilbo had seen, walked out. He wore nothing but simple clothes, and Bilbo could only do so much at stare._

“ _Yes?”_

_Bilbo gulped, trembling at the heavy voice. the dwarf had dark black hair that fell around him. His beard was short, and it was very weird watching facial hair on a creature that was not man. But then Dwarves did have facial hair. His blue eyes were unnerving and Bilbo could feel the question.  
_

_But he was Took and a Baggins, everything be damned if he backed down now._

“ _Mr-Mr Dwarf?” he said, “These-these are some, uh, um, tools. They were blunt. Can you help us?”_

_The Dwarf looked at Bilbo for th_ _e longest time. It was as if he was trying to dissect Bilbo from merely his eyes. Truly dangerous, if Bilbo was being honest._

“ _Certainly,” the dwarf said without a smile, taking the tools in his hand. “It would_ _not_ _take long. Have a seat.”_

_Grudgingly, Bilbo sat down as the_ _dwarf took the tools inside. Now that his eyes were used to the darkness, Bilbo could see a few things lying on the counter. There was what he was surely a gold coin, a few gemstones, and a silver metal comb. Bilbo was never aware that combs could be this beautiful, that too made of metal. It was so finely crafted. From what bilbo could see there were red and blue gemstones at the top, gleaming in the darkness.  
_

_The Took side took over the young Baggins, and he wondered if anybody would notice if it was missing. The dwarf was inside, working, and no Hobbit was anywhere close._

_He sat there, playing with his hands before Bilbo once again looked at the comb. What if he just took it in his hand? The Dwarf had not said he could not touch anything._

_Bilbo slowly inched towards the counter, and then looked at the comb. He inched closer, making sure nobody was looking at him. His heart beat faster, but he was not going to back down. With one last look, Bilbo tried to slowly reach out for the comb without looking up._

_A large hand dropped on his own, and Bilbo jumped. The dwarf stood there, his face looking wild._

“ _A baby like you should not be playing with sharp tools,” the dwarf said. Bilbo spluttered.  
_

“ _I am not a baby!”_

“ _Then a burglar, perhaps?” The dwarf asked, before dropping the freshly sharp tools in his hands, “I will talk to someone older with the cost of my work, or ask the Thain myself. Because surely, a child like yourself would have no money.”_

_Bilbo’s face became red, but he did not let the Dwarf have the satisfaction of seeing him before hurrying out of the shop. Behind him, he could feel the dwarf’s gaze fixed on him._

* * *

A loud knock brought both the Hobbit and the Dwarf out of their thoughts. Bilbo turned to Thorin, raising an eyebrow. He shook his head, and Bilbo frowned. Who could it be? Certainly not Lobelia. Oh dear, Bilbo had completely forgotten about that.

Expecting another Hobbit, Bilbo plastered a fake smile and opened the round door. Only, on the other side stood a large wizard, wearing grey robes and smiling happily at the Hobbit.

“Gandalf!”

The Grey Wizard laughed and hugged the younger hobbit. Bilbo laughed, the worries of before seeping out of his head. Just as they parted, Thorin walked out of the kitchen and stared at the wizard.

“Tharkun,” Thorin said with a small bow.

“Master Oakenshield,” Gandalf said with a nod.

“Oh, enough with the formalities, come in, come in!” Bilbo said excitedly. He hurried down the kitchen and put on a fresh kettle of tea. Gandalf and Thorin both settled down in the kitchen. Both looked reserved as Bilbo served them tea and settled down beside Thorin.

“Bilbo knows of the quest,” Thorin said neutrally and Bilbo’s face fell. So that was why Gandalf was there “We were just discussing it when you came.”

“Ah!” Gandalf smiled, “Perfect. Well you see, Master Oakenshield, we have a bit of a problem.”

“And that would be?”

Gandalf took a sip of his tea as if discussing the weather rather than a death mission, “If we assume that Smaug is awake, you will need a burglar to enter your kingdom and steal the Arkenstone from under the Dragon’s nose.”

“Nori has all but agreed to come on this quest,” said Thorin, “And he is an able thief.”

“Ah,” Gandalf said with a knowing glint, "But the Dragon knows the scent of a dwarf. Worst comes, he will kill the Dwarf in a matter of seconds.”

Thorin sighed, and Bilbo’s own stomach rumbled. Perhaps Gandalf could stop Thorin? Or at least push some sense into his head?

“What are you suggesting then? Do we turn to men? Or worse, _elves?_ ”

Bilbo huffed, putting down his cup with more force than necessary.

“Some soddy good quest you have in mind, full of possibilities.”

“I had some other possibilities in my mind too,” Gandalf said with a smile, “I was thinking more along the lines of a...Hobbit.”

Bilbo dropped the piece of cake he had taken in hand as Thorin jumped and stared at Gandalf.

“A Hobbit?” asked Thorin, in much of condescending tone.

Bilbo turned to his Husband, offended. “I assure you Thorin, we Hobbits are perfectly good thieves.”

Then, he turned to Gandalf, “And which Hobbit do you think is exactly going to go across the Misty Mountains? Hobbits hardly leave their homes to go to Bree, and you are planning on taking them all the way to the East?”

“Well,” Gandalf smiled suggestively, “I had a specific Hobbit in mind?”

“Who exactly?” demanded Bilbo.

Gandalf continued to stare at Bilbo as he waited for Gandalf to answer. Suddenly, Thorin said, “No.”

“Huh?” Bilbo looked at Thorin, and then at Gandalf, “You know who he is talking about?”

“No, Gandalf,” Thorin said, standing up, “I am not putting my husband at risk.”

Saying so, he walked away.

“Wait, what? Me?” Bilbo let out a laugh, “Surely Gandalf, you are jesting. Me?”

“Why not?” asked the wizard innocently, “You are the most adventurous of your kind here in the Shire. Belladonna Took’s son, not at all like the other Hobbits.”

“Well, yes-”

“You know how to fight with a sword and a bow,” continued Gandalf, “What makes you are not fit for this quest?”

“The fact that he is my husband,” said Thorin, coming back in, “It is my duty to ensure that he is safe.”

“So is my duty,” said Bilbo, “But you are clearly planning on going all the way to Erebor and getting yourself killed.”

Bilbo looked smug at Thorin’s sigh before continuing, “Actually, now that you mention it, it might actually be a good idea to go with you. I could meet your kind. If the worst comes, at least I will be there for your last rites.”

“Bilbo,” Thorin said with more of a force than necessary, “Can I have a word, please?”

Without waiting for a response, Thorin stormed into the house. Bilbo shared a knowing glance with Gandalf before following his Husband inside. He put on a sweet, innocent smile while looking at Thorin. Just like when he was a young Hobbit. 

“Yes, Husband Dear?”

“What are you thinking?” demanded Thorin, “Have I not mentioned it is going to be a perilous journey.”

Bilbo nodded, “Yes, yes.”

“We don’t know what we will encounter.” 

Shrugging, he said, “That’s all right.”

“Bilbo,” Thorin stepped up and clasped Bilbo’s shoulder, “I cannot lose you.”

That gave him a stop. Bilbo sighed, and looked up, asking softly, “And you think I can?"

Thorin opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

"You are either marching to your death or a lifelong responsibility. Whether you win that kingdom back or not, I am going to lose you. The least I can do is accompany you on this journey.”

“I will claim you...”

“That’s what you have been saying for ages Thorin!” said Bilbo, clearly flustered, “And I am not contesting your words or claims. I do not pretend to understand Dwarven politics or culture, but the truth is that even if you become the king I doubt your people will accept me. You have told me they revolted when your sister married a non-noble and when you declared Fili your heir.”

With a sigh, Bilbo pulled back, “And I am not a royal. I am a male. I am a Hobbit. I have married you knowing what my place in your life will be, Thorin, and I do not regret it for a moment. But this, this is madness. And unfortunately, I vowed to follow you through all the madness.”

Thorin remained silent. Bilbo looked down, allowing himself a moment of silence as Thorin continued to wonder.

“If you travel with me, my company will not know who you are.”

Bilbo blinked, looking up at Thorin in confusion, “What?”

Thorin stared back, steel in his spine and confidence in his voice, “I will not share the true nature of our relationship until we reach Erebor.”

“You don’t trust them?”

“I do, but I do not trust their prejudices. Think, will you be able to travel all the while knowing I will not acknowledge you?”

Bilbo frowned. He would not put it past this dwarf to use this as a method to discourage him. Standing tall, Bilbo said, “I will follow you under the pretence of being a commoner if it means staying by your side and protecting you, Thorin.”

“I don’t need your protection,” grumbled Thorin.

“I think you will find you do.”

Thorin fixed him with a glare. Bilbo glared back. Never let it be said that Hobbits were by any chance less stubborn than Dwarves. With a sigh, Thorin pulled Bilbo close and hugged him. He knew it was a lost battle. Bilbo had made up his mind.

In the kitchen, Gandalf allowed himself to smile.


	2. Meet your kin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dwarves are here, and they are not what Bilbo expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD, YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST! AAAAAH!  
> Thank you for such a lovely response! This chapter is super looong, and no other chapter that I have written is quite this big. But who knows, this might change in the way.
> 
> Now, before we move further, something I wish all of you to know. When I say this has canon Divergence, I mean, it has a HUGE canon divergence. Some truths shall remain the same, but others will be played with. No spoilers, but I will add the tags as we go along. Hope you guys continue to like it!
> 
> ALSO, I haven't read the book. I will read them, soon enough, but for now, this follows Peter Jackson's trilogy. So if there's anything you notice or wanna tell me, please do!
> 
> Edit: 22/02/21 Looking back at my work, dang! It's super weird. Gonna go through this piece and see what have I cooked up here. 
> 
> So not mnay changes. I am actually proud of this chapter, not gonna lie.

_Bilbo Baggins entered Bag End fuming. His usual light steps were heavy and he was breathing like an angry wolf. His whole face was red, which was a feat in itself._

_His parents were sitting by the fireplace, enjoying a peaceful day when Bilbo stormed in. Bungo looked up from his book, one eyebrow raised. Belladonna frowned, putting down her knife and watching her fuming son at the doorway.  
_

“ _Bilbo, dear?” Belladonna looked at her son worriedly, “Is everything all right?”_

_Bilbo dropped the knives and tools on the table with a thump. “That, that bloody dwarf! That bloody new smith called me a baby! A baby! I am 34, not a fauntling anymore, thank you very much! He made fun of me and said that a child like me should not handle sharp weapons. If he was not Thain’s guest, I would have sacked him in his nose!”_

“ _Oh dear,” Belladonna was clearly amused at her young boy’s burst of anger. “I am sure the Dwarf meant well.”_

“ _Well? He was making fun of me Ma!” Bilbo's voice sounded pained, “He said that I looked like a burglar!”_

_Belladonna barely managed to hide her laughter as Bilbo walked inside grumbling to himself about how he would sack the bloody Dwarf. Bungo turned to Belladonna, clearly disgruntled.  
_

_"Oh quiet you," Belladonna chuckled, taking back her place._

_"A dwarf!" spluttered Bungo, "He could be dangerous."_

_Huffing, Belladonna pulled up her knife and began to clean it again, "If he were dangerous Bilbo would be crying, not be angry. Calm down, would you? Bilbo needs a mirror in his face every now and then."_

_Inside the house, the young Hobbit remained unaware of his parents' talks. Slumping down on his bed, Bilbo crossed his arms and thought. The Dwarf was much bigger in shape and size. He was also quite smart. He knew his way around the forge. There was no way that Bilbo could get back to him in the Shire._

_But the Thain was soon going to throw his birthday party. A small smile began to play on his lips as Bilbo began to devise a plan._

* * *

Bilbo looked over his kitchen. The food was enough to feed some twelve-fifteen dwarrows. According to Thorin, twelve dwarrows would be able to eat as much as the whole Took clan. Bilbo knew that Thorin was jesting, surely. Nobody could eat as much as his Took clan. They were many, and often Brandybucks came in with the Tooks. What would twelve dwarrows be in comparison to that mischievous lot?

Once sure that the food was ready, Bilbo turned around to have his own dinner. Not that he would mind eating with the dwarrows, but Bilbo was not entirely sure if they would appreciate his company. Furthermore, as the Host, he would have to be at their beck and call, and with Thorin with his act, he was not going to help Bilbo. Destined to tire himself out, Bilbo sat down with his fish and vegetables and dug in enthusiastically.

As soon as the plate was wiped clean, a loud knock on the door interrupted him. Bilbo thanked all the Valar. It was good that whoever was on the other side did not come earlier. One never comes between a Hobbit and his meal.

Straightening his waistcoat, Bilbo walked out with a smile. His heart was fluttering, but he needed to be ready. This was the beginning of something new.

Bilbo opened the door to find a huge dwarf on the other side. His head was bald, which was funny enough and he had a number of tattoos on his head.

“Dwalin,” said the dwarf, bowing, “At your service.”

Bilbo had to hold back a squeak. _This was Dwalin?_

Whenever Thorin talked about his dearest and closest cousin, Bilbo had imagined someone like Thorin- broody, well built, but still majestic. Dwalin, while all of that, was so much scarier. There was something in his very glare.

“Bilbo Baggins,” Bilbo said with what he hoped was a smile, “At yours.”

Dwalin did not waste a minute getting in. Dumping the cloak on Bilbo, he asked, “Is it this way laddie? Supper?”

Bilbo was not a laddie. He was married to Dwalin’s cousin, for Yavannah’s sake.

But before Bilbo could begin, Dwalin had seated himself and was helping himself with large portions of the fish Bilbo had cooked. Now that was extremely rude. Bilbo had cooked and cooked for ages and baked so many dishes, not for the dwarf to just jump without properly acknowledging the Hobbit. A little good evening and how was your day would surely not hurt? He might not be a ‘proper’ hobbit, but he was still a Hobbit.

And those crumbs- why in the name of Yavannah was this Dwarf eating like that?

The doorbell rang and Dwalin turned to look at him.

“That’ll be the door.”

Bilbo gaped, “I am well aware of that, thank you very much.”

He ignored the Dwarf’s huff and walked out, muttering something along the lines of ‘impossible dwarf’. The behaviour was appaling. Hopefully, it was only Dwalin. After all, Thorin ate like a proper Hobbit and knew his manners.

Yes, yes, Dwalin must be a rare case.

With that in his mind, Bilbo opened the door to find a white-haired dwarf, looking a bit lost. His great white beard was quite a sight. Then he smiled and bowed gracefully. “Balin, at your service.”

Oh. Oh dear. Surely not Balin, Thorin’s advisor and old friend?

“Good evening.”

No, no-no-no! That was not how Dwarves greeted. Bilbo mentally smacked himself. That was not how Dwarves greeted each other at all.

Thorin did not mention that Balin was going to be there. Or even Dwalin. Oh, dear. This was not turning out the way Bilbo had expected.

“Yes, yes it is,” the older dwarf said, looking at the sky, “Though I think it might rain later.”

Bilbo could only hum.

“Am I late?’ he asked, walking inside. Before Bilbo could formulate coherent sentences, Balin turned and saw Dwalin, who was presently rummaging through Bilbo’s cookie jar.

Now dear, did Dwalin have no house manners?

“Evening, Brother.”

“By my beard,” Dwalin chuckled, “You’re shorter and wider than last we met.”

“Wider, not shorter,” retorted Balin, “Sharp enough for both of us.”

And then, right in front of Bilbo’s eyes, the two dwarves clutched each other and banged their heads.

Either these dwarves had lost their marbles or Thorin had missed a lot when he talked about his culture.

Bloody dwarrows and their secrets.

Dwalin lead Balin to Bilbo’s kitchen and the two started to comment on Bilbo’s cooking, his ingredients and whatnot. Before Bilbo could grasp what was happening, they were in his pantry, looking at his blue cheese and thinking it had gone bad.

Had it been anyone else, Bilbo would have stopped them. But these were dwarrows and one thing that Bilbo knew about Dwarrows was that they did not listen to anyone when they had food in front of them.

An awkward conversation could have followed, had the doorbell not rung at that very moment. Bilbo sighed, hoping it was Thorin.

And lo and behold, it was. But not alone. For in front of him stood two younger dwarves, one blonde and one raven headed, like Thorin.

“Fili,” said the blonde one.

“And Kili,” said the other.

“At your service,” they said together and bowed. Bilbo gaped. These were his nephews-in-law, the two boys Thorin would not shut up about. They always sounded lovely, if a bit like the Took fauntlings.

“You must be Mr Boggins!”

That made Bilbo stutter. “I-I am sorry?”

“Indeed,” Thorin rumbled from behind, cleverly hiding his laughter, “This is him. Mr Boggins, nice to meet you again.”

The dwarves grinned and immediately walked in, thrusting their weapons on Bilbo. Thorin, that bastard, was grinning as he laid down his coat and weapons on the door and watched as Fili talked about sharpened weapons and KILI!- wiped his boots on his mother’s glory box.

Thorin remained hidden until Dwalin had whisked Kili and Fili away and Bilbo continued to stare at the dwarves rearranging his house. It was like a dream. An absolute nightmare of a dream. he was so not sure what he was going to do and what he could do. Even when they did not know he was family, they treated it like such. 

“You still have time.”

Bilbo jumped at Thorin’s voice so close to his ears, “You can still turn us away, say no.”

“You!” Bilbo said, dropping the weapons on the side, “You sent Dwalin and, and Balin first to scare me! You did this!”

Thorin merely raised an eyebrow, “I did no such thing, dear one. Dwalin and Balin scared you? I am not sure you are ready for the rest.”

Bilbo huffed. Before he could snark back, the doorbell rang. With one last look at Thorin, Bilbo turned and opened the door.

...and a barrel of dwarves fell on the ground, with Gandalf looking at him with a smile.

Bilbo was almost sure that this was a mixed plan from Thorin and Gandalf to get him at his wit's end.

Because Bilbo Baggins of Bag End, husband of Thorin Oakenshield-not that the dwarves knew that- had already prepared a hearty meal for the dwarves and laid the table very well. Enough for thirteen dwarves and a wizard. Yet, _yet_ , the dwarves invaded his pantry and took out blocks of cheese, his jams, his prize-winning tomatoes and what not to the table.

He should have been angry, but Bilbo was merely flabbergasted at the fact that all that he had prepared was almost over. The dwarves were taking the food from his pantry to feed themselves more.

Here he had thought that hobbits ate a lot.

Thorin was sitting at one end, beside Gandalf, with a proud smile on his face. They were his kin, and Bilbo should be respectful at the very least.

But the dwarves did not just eat- no, no. These were children. They _played with their food!_ Someone called Bofur, the one with a weird hat, threw the food to the one called Bombur, who was sitting on the other end of the table. Fili was passing ale to everyone by _walking on the damn table!_

And when they drank, oh when they drank, Bilbo was sure he was going to pass out. It was only Thorin who showed some kind of restraint when everybody else’s beards were stained and they were having competition an who could burp the loudest.

Honestly!

Bilbo watched the youngest one, Ori, his name was, win that competition and then the dwarves laughed.

The worst part, it did not end there. One of the dwarves took his mother’s doily and was using it as a dishcloth! Other one said that crochet was a game! With balls!

“ _Bebother and confusticate these dwarves!”_

“My dear Bilbo, what on Earth is the matter?”

Bilbo huffed as Gandalf looked bemused at him. He pulled the older wizard out till they were standing in front of the pantry. “I am surrounded by dwarves, is what the matter is!”

The two turned at the amused grunt on the other side. Thorin stood with a mug of ale in his hands, leaning on the doorway of the pantry.

“What did I say, Gandalf?” he said, looking at Bilbo, “Mr Boggins is not the right choice for this adventure.”

Bilbo huffed. “Not the right choice? Uh-huh, yes sure, _Mr Oakenshield_ , I am not the right choice if we are going to be surrounded by children! There are mud trails on my floor, my pantry is over despite all that I had cooked and I will not start with the condition of my bathroom!”

Thorin merely chuckled at Bilbo’s words. Fili, who stood behind Thorin, chuckled too, though Bilbo was sure he was just laughing at his plight. For Fili did not know who he was. Nobody knew who he was. For them, he was just another hobbit.

If this is how they behaved with random people, Bilbo was surely glad that Thorin had not introduced him to his family.

“Excuse me,” came a voice from the kitchen, “I am sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?”

 _Bang it on my head_ , is what Bilbo wanted to say. But Fili walked out and said, “Give it to me, Ori.”

_AND THEN HE TOSSED IT TO KILI!_

Bilbo watched in horror as they continued to throw plates as if playing a game.

“Excuse me, put that back!”

But his words fell on deaf ears, as the dwarves began to play with knives and forks.

He was surrounded by children.

“Can you not do that?” he asked the dwarves on the table, “You’ll blunt them!”

“Oooh, do you hear that lads? He says we will blunt the knives!”

Thorin chuckled and moved forward, leaning over Bilbo’s ear. “Now you are in for a treat, Mr Boggins.”

Before Bilbo could comprehend what Thorin meant, Thorin had seated himself on one of the chairs and was holding a few crockeries himself.

And then Kili began,

_Blunt the knives, bend the forks  
Smash the bottles and burn the corks!_

Continued Fili. And just like that, all of the dwarves were singing.

_Chip the glasses and crack the plates.  
That’s what Bilbo Baggins hates!_

Bilbo watched in horror as the dwarves threw his plate and cups and glasses.

_Cut the cloth, tread on the fat  
Leave the bones on the bedroom mat.  
Pour the milk on the pantry floor._

Balin looked like he was the only adult, but was enjoying the game too.

_Splash the wine on every door.  
Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl  
pound them up with a thumping pole  
When you’re finished, if they’re whole_

Thorin, that bastard, who would never move his body when pulled for dance, was piling the bowls and plates like children and throwing them with a grace that only a King could muster.

_Send them down the hall to roll  
That’s what Bilbo Baggins hates!_

Bilbo pushed through the laughter into the kitchen...only to find the plates and bowls and cups cleaned and neatly stacked. The dwarves, with ales and pipes in their hands, were laughing.

Oh. Oh, they cleaned it all.

Bilbo looked up at the dwarves and found Thorin, smiling. He was pushing Bilbo to his limits. He was doing this purposefully.

Never let it be said that Bilbo was the one to back down from a challenge.

The dwarves began to disperse, sitting down back on the table, with Thorin taking his seat as the head with everyone else crammed in his small room. Bilbo walked away from the rest, pulling out a few candles and lighting them.

He had to take a few deep breaths. The evening- to say it did not go the way he had expected it to be would be an understatement. Bilbo was no fool. He knew that dwarves were rowdy and loud and boisterous. But he had not expected this.

With a sigh, Bilbo walked into the dining room with the lit candles. Thorin was informing the others that the dwarves from the Iron Hills would not come. Bilbo did not blame them. It was a fool’s errand, Bilbo knew, but in his heart, he couldn’t let his love walk to his death alone.

Gandalf had pulled out a map, and the dwarf with the ear trumpet, Oin, was speaking up, about the signs. Ravens were moving back to the mountain, he said.

“ _When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end_ ,” said Oin.

Bilbo looked at the thirteen, all looking solemn. “The-the beast?”

“Aye, that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible,” said Bofur, “chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne fire-breather. Teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks. Extremely fond of precious metals.”

“Yes, I know what a dragon is,” snapped Bilbo. The description did not help him. No, it did not, not one bit.

Suddenly, the young dwarf, Ori stood up and proclaimed, “I am not afraid. I am up for it.”

Balin, like himself, looked sceptical, but Fili and Kili, young as they were, were full of hope and energy. Bilbo could feel Thorin’s amusement as the attention turned to Gandalf. The dwarves rose, demanding a number form Gandalf.

And that’s when Thorin stood up.

Now, Bilbo was no stranger to how majestic his dwarvish husband was. He had seen Thorin scare enough Hobbits and charm even more lasses in the Shire, but looking at him then, in front of his Dwarves, his people, Bilbo could finally begin to piece together the King that Dwarves looked up to.

“If we have read these signs, do you not think the others will have read them too?” demanded Thorin, levelling all dwarves under his stare. Bilbo, standing just beside Gandalf, could feel his stare too. “Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon, Smaug, has not been seen for 60 years. Eyes look east to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk.”

It was then that Bilbo understood. A small part of his heart knew, always had known, that this was never about vengeance, but about the threat. “Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?”

Bilbo could feel the excitement as the Dwarves stood around his dining room, shouting, “ _Du bekar!_ ” There was an energy missing before. Bilbo felt his heart beat faster, ready to walk on in this quest himself.

“You forget,” Balin interjected, “the Front gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain.”

“That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true,” said Gandalf, pulling out the key from his robes, “This was given to me by your father, Thorin. By Thrain, for safekeeping. It is yours, now.”

Bilbo watched in silence as Gandalf handed the key over to Thorin. For his part, the dwarf looked like he was given the key to all his problems.

“If there is a key, there must be a door.”

Bilbo slowly turned to stare at Fili.

As Gandalf spoke of the passage, Kili spoke up. “There’s another way in.”

Truly, the wisdom of dwarrows were the stuff of legends.

Gandalf was the one who was planning it all, Bilbo realized, as he spoke about stealth and courage. Was it Thorin’s idea in the first place? If it was another one of Gandalf’s plans, Bilbo might as well just throttle the old man, age be damned.

“That’s why we need a burglar!” Ori spoke up, pulling Bilbo out of his thoughts.

“And a good one too,” said Bilbo, looking at the map and the key, “And expert, I’d imagine.”

“And are you?” asked the red-haired dwarf, Gloin.

Bilbo looked up, his head still in swirls. “Hmm?”

“Not quite,” spoke up Thorin, surprising everyone, “He once tried to steal my tools. Need I remind you how that ended, Mr Boggins?”

Now, there was no need to bring up old tales, yet Thorin did. He was playing a dangerous game. Sniffling, Bilbo leaned forward and said, “I had just reached my majority back then, Mr Oakenshield, and thus was yet a fauntling. I have stolen a fair number of things in my prime. Or have you completely forgotten about the incident at the Thain’s?”

With that, Thorin’s smile disappeared and a scowl took over. Bilbo allowed himself to have a victory dance in his hand.

“You have stolen from Thorin?” came Fili’s voice and Bilbo turned to him with a smile. “Oh, many times. The first time he managed to catch, never again.”

“I was not aware that you were acquaintances,” Balin had a careful yet curious smile on his face.

“I have spent ages in the Shire,” Thorin said with the same scowl, turning back to Bilbo, “And Mr Baggins has been a pain in my arse ever since.”

“In more ways than one,” Bilbo said with a sweetly smile, earning another glare from Thorin, “But yes, I have been aware of Mister Oakenshield’s works and words for a long long time. I assure you, fellow dwarves, that I am a capable burglar.”

“But can you fight?” asked Dwalin, “Can you fend for yourself in the wild? Orcs, trolls, animals?”

Bilbo huffed, “I will have you know, nobody in the whole of Hobbiton can beat me in sword-fighting.”

“That’s a commentary on Hobbits as a race, not your ability to fight.”

This time Bilbo levelled Thorin with a glare, “You really do not want me on this quest, do you Mister Oakenshield? Do you not want a burglar at all?”

As eyes fell on Thorin, he sat up straight. “I will not be responsible for your fate.”

Bilbo wanted to snort. Thorin would probably coddle him on the road if given the chance.

“I am not expecting you to.”

The two stared at each other, waiting for the other to falter. Thorin would rather chew off his foot rather than fall back, and Bilbo would share tea with Sackville-Baggins instead. The air grew thicker in the room. Bilbo eyes suddenly wandered to Thorin’s lips, and though his mind was constantly telling him it was not a good idea to snog him in front of the whole Company at all, Bilbo was sure an exception could be made.

“Uh-hmm. Bilbo. Thorin.”

Gandalf’s voice was like a slap to the couple, and Bilbo could see the same blush appear on Thorin’s face that he could feel on his own neck. He turned to glare at Gandalf, instead, only to meet with an innocent smile.

Snatching the contract out of Balin’s hands, Thorin pushed it towards Bilbo, not even looking at him. Bilbo took it without a word before walking out in the Hall. As the paper began to unroll, Bilbo realized how well these dwarves had planned this quest out.

Thorin leaned over to Gandalf and said something, but Bilbo ignored them as he went through the contract. He was not interested in the share, but one-fourteenth of something green would be good. Perhaps he could ask for books. Hmm, and injuries? Yes, they were important. But...

“Incineration?”

“Aye,” said Bofur, “He’ll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye.”

Bilbo blinked. Was Bofur the dragon’s brand ambassador?

“Are you all right laddie?”

Bilbo nodded, as Bofur began, “Think furnace with wings.”

Nope.

“Flash of light, searing pain, then: poof. You are nothing more than a pile of ash.”

Nope. Not at all. This would not do.

“Nope.”

And Bilbo fainted.

* * *

_The Thain’s birthday party was being held in a large field behind his house. Though there was no Party Tree, there was enough tress to tie up the tent. It was big enough for all of Hobbiton, but Thain had invited close family and friends only. Bilbo was among them._

_But unfortunately, so was the dwarf._

_He looked much different from in the shop. His hair was braided with lots of beads, and he wore dark blue clothes. It suited him._

_What? Why did it matter if it suited him? Bilbo was there to show him that he was not a child, not to admire him._

_Though, he was somewhat pretty._

_Ignoring the cogs in his head, Bilbo slipped away from the rest of the Hobbits and began to shadow the dwarf._

_There was next to nothing, much to Bilbo’s dismay until his eyes landed on the Dwarf’s pants._

_For the longest time, Bilbo tried to get the dwarf busy. But he was always so aware. He must have surely spotted Bilbo too._

_It was getting larger, the crowd, and ale and pipes were being brought out when Bilbo finally got the chance._

_The dwarf was standing beside his Grandfather and talking about something with some of the other older Hobbits. He looked the most relaxed throughout the night._

_Slowly walking towards the Dwarf from behind a tent curtain, Bilbo looked at his target. As the Hobbits and the dwarf laughed about something, Bilbo slowly pushed his hand through behind a large tree and grasped the cold handle of the dagger._

_Just at the moment, fireworks went off. As everybody turned, Bilbo swiftly pushed the dagger out._

_Nobody noticed a thing. Bilbo grinned to himself and did a little dance. Straightening his waistcoat and holding the dagger tightly, Bilbo began to walk away._

“ _Bilbo, my boy!”_

_Bilbo froze. Oh, blast! Why did his grandfather have to call him then?_

“ _Come, come laddie!” said the old Hobbit. Bilbo slowly turned, his hands behind him, careful to hide the dagger as he moved towards the old Hobbits and Dwarf._

_The Dwarf was looking at him, amused when Thain opened his mouth._

“ _Mr Oakenshield, this is my grandson, Bilbo Baggins.”_

“ _Another one?” the Dwarf said in almost a teasing tone._

_The Thain laughed, before turning to Bilbo. “Bilbo, this is Mr Thorin Oakenshield, the King of the Dwarves.”_

“ _The WHAT now?”_

_It was a little too late when Bilbo realized he had said it out loud. He clasped his mouth shut, covering it with his hands._

_The dagger fell and landed on the ground with a clink on a crate beside him. There was absolute silence Bilbo realized what just happened._

“ _Is that my dagger?”_

_Oh, Bilbo was damned now._

* * *

_The fire from his fireplace slowly became a dragon-like one of Gandalf’s fireworks and devouring him whole._

That was when Bilbo woke up, gasping.

Gandalf and Thorin both turned to look at him, relief evident on their faces. He was on his bed, in his bedroom, and the door was closed. How long had be been unconscious?

“I am fine,” Bilbo said, taking a cup of tea Gandalf handed him, “I will be all right, Just give me a moment.”

Thorin looked at him as if he did not believe a word he had said, “Leave us alone for a moment.”

Gandalf looked at them, eyebrows raised, before nodding and walking out of the room. As soon as the door shut behind him, Thorin dropped on the bed. He pulled close, his head resting on Bilbo and Bilbo loved the touch. If it lasted longer than normal, neither of them were complaining.

Thorin finally pulled back and stood up. His expression changed; there was a certain bite to it.

He said nothing, so Bilbo decided to speak up.

“Your kin will wonder what you are up to.”

“You fainted at the mention of a dragon,” Thorin said instead, “You could not handle the behaviour of dwarves and your sword skills only go so far, Bilbo. You know it.”

Bilbo kept quiet, looking down at his cup.

“You can still say no,” he pressed, “Nobody will say a word.”

“Why are you so insistent that I do not go?” demanded Bilbo, putting the cup on the bedside table, “I thought you said Dwarrows took pride in the fact that their spouses could fight.”

Bilbo knew nobody out could hear a word and he was glad for the same as Thorin growled. “You think I am not proud? You have done more than enough to make me proud and happy. But this is not a quest for a Hobbit like you.”

“Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean? Do you think I am a lesser hobbit?”

“No!” Thorin looked more offended at the idea, “You are the best of hobbit out there, _ghivashel_. That is the point, that even the best of you cannot live through this quest. You don’t know the hardships we will face,.”

“I might not know them, but I am ready to face them,” said Bilbo, his arms crossed, “I am going, Thorin. I am coming with you, one way or the other. You know this. You can leave me behind and I will follow you all through the way.”

Thorin, in response, glared at him, before turning around and walking out and banging the door behind him. Bilbo winced but decided that what was done was done. He would enjoy his tea.

A minute later, however, Balin appeared on the doorway.

“Aye, how are you feeling laddie?” he asked with a soft smile.

“Well enough,” Bilbo said back with a smile, “the contract?”

The dwarf looked surprised, but he handed it over nevertheless. Bilbo put back his cup and pulled out a quill from one the drawers. He saw his husband’s first name, followed by Balin’s, and then signed his name just at the place of the burglar.

And with that, the company of Thorin Oakenshield had their burglar.

At that moment, Bilbo felt the weight of the day that had passed. He yawned and then smiled apologetically at Balin.

“The rooms are set,” Bilbo said with a smile, “Seven of them. Some of you might have to share, but there’s a place for everyone. Get yourself comfortable.”

Balin nodded. “Aye laddie. We leave at the first light. See you then.”

With that, Balin was out. Bilbo finished his tea and laid back down on his bed, closing his eyes. Moments passed, and Bilbo couldn’t sleep. Huffing, he sat up at the edge of his bed.

It was then that a hum took over the Hobbit hole. Balin had left the door slightly ajar, and Bilbo could hear the soft murmur of his husband, followed by the others.

_Far over the misty mountains cold  
To dungeons deep and caverns old  
We must away, ‘ere break of day  
to find our long-forgotten gold_

_The pines were roaring on the height  
The winds were moaning in the night  
The fire was red, it flaming spread,  
The trees like torches blazed with light._

Bilbo had never heard the song before, but it struck a chord. There was something about tone, or maybe the whole idea of going back home. He could imagine what they sang of. Something beautiful. Something burning.

A moment passed and then another. Bilbo heard the dwarves dispersing through his house. Gandalf was leading them and so Bilbo allowed himself to fall on the bed again.

But sleep did not come easy, and so there lay Bilbo, holding himself tight. He could hear some of the dwarves snore and truly wondered how he was going to survive in the wild. What would they eat, where would they sleep? Would all that he had packed be enough, or should he carry more money? He had written to the Thain, but what came next? Would Hamfest looks after his garden even after Bag End would remain empty?

So lost was Bilbo in his head that he did not hear the door open. But he heard it close. A moment later, the bed dipped beside him. An arm pressed over his stomach and pulled him close, and a well known bearded face lay over his head.

Bilbo pressed back, before sighing and turning, burying his face under the dwarf's neck. He pulled him close. They would not get this chance for months now, not until they reach the mountain. And even then, Bilbo doubted it.

“ _Ghivashel_?” came a rumbling soft voice.

Bilbo hummed.

“Promise me something.”

Bilbo looked up. In the dark, he could not see Thorin’s face, but he could imagine the frown there.

“What?” he whispered.

“If it ever comes to it,” Thorin said, “You will first save yourself.”

Unable to hide his smile, Bilbo pushed the dwarf’s braid away from his face and pressed a kiss on his lower jaw, “I promise to do what I see best in the moment and save myself accordingly.”

Thorin grunted, almost like a laugh, and pulled Bilbo close. “That is the best you will do, I know. Thank you.”

With that, Thorin pressed a kiss on Bilbo’s head and the two fell into a peaceful slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! I LOVE YOU ALL!


	3. Follow You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The COmpany begins the journey, and what else to do on journeys rather than talk!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YESSS! NEW UPDATE!  
> Not much happens here, except for lots of talking. Next time, we have trolls.

The early morning rays were peeping from the bedroom window. Bilbo woke up when Thorin closed the door behind him. He was careful, but he was still a loud dwarf.

Bilbo couldn’t help but sigh. Nobody knew, and nobody could know. It was just the beginning. Bilbo was not ready for all that was to come, now that he truly thought about it.

The sun, however, was already going up in the sky. He decided to wake up and bustle around his room, fixing the last of his luggage. Once satisfied with everything he carried, which included extra coins now, Bilbo walked out in the kitchen.

As the Hobbits began to wake up in the Shire, so did the large dwarf. Bombur, his name was, Bilbo vaguely remembered. They shared a quick nod, and Bombur got around packing food and making breakfast.

The dwarrows began to trickle in. Bilbo set down the breakfast appropriate for a large journey. Soon enough, it was just Bombur who was serving the dwarrows.

As the moments to leave grew closer, Bilbo looked around his home for the last time. He approached Balin and said, “I will be in my back garden for a while. When we have to leave, can you please send someone?”

Balin nodded, turning back to his breakfast. Bilbo picked up his pack from the room but lingered at the doorway for the longest moment. It felt like a dream now, the idea of leaving his comfortable room. He never knew when he was going to see it again _if_ he even saw it.

On the condition that he does not return back within a year, Bag End was to go to his cousin Drogo Baggins and his future family. Drogo was still growing, but Bilbo knew that if any Hobbit deserved the Hobbit Hole that Bungo Baggins had made for Belladonna Took, it would be him.

Sighing, Bilbo made his way to the backdoor. Two epitaphs stood in the Hobbit’s backyard, close to each other. He just looked at them for the longest moment, before walking over and brushing his hands over the stone.

“I am going away,” he said softly, “And I don’t know when I will be back. In fact, I am not sure I will be back at all. This quest, it is not going to be an easy thing. But I have to follow Thorin. And so, here I am, saying goodbye.”

Holding his tears back, Bilbo smiled, “I would have loved for you two to come with us, but even if you were...alive, this journey would not be for you. Maybe I would ask Thorin to get you to Erebor once we reached and got rid of the dragon. But now, now, I am not so sure.”

Sniffling, he continued, “I will try to be back, surely, but the future is uncertain. So this, this is proper goodbye. I really hope you two have gotten your peace by now.”

A hand pressed on his back. Bilbo turned to face Thorin. He smiled gently at the Hobbit, before turning to the graves. At first, he did not say anything, but Bilbo was used to Thorin’s silent conversations by now. So Bilbo waited until Thorin let out a sigh.

“Time to leave?” asked Bilbo.

At Thorin’s nod, Bilbo picked up his bag. But then just for a moment, both Bilbo and Thorin turned, taking one last look at the graves.

With a heavy heart, Bilbo and Thorin left Bag End. The others, except Gandalf, had already walked on to the clearing where their ponies stood.

Gandalf gave the couple a sad smile. Thorin ignored it, like he usually did. Bilbo smiled back, closing the door to his beloved Bag End.

He would not see those gardens again. Not the green round door either.

Nasty business, these adventures were.

The Hobbits of Shire said nothing as Bilbo, Gandalf and Thorin walked to the clearing and for that Bilbo was glad. They were used to his oddities by now, but still. The last thing they needed was the Hobbits blurting out where the couple were off to. Thank goodness the Shire was afraid of Thorin.

They found the dwarves settling their ponies. Kili was the one who spotted Bilbo and gave him the biggest grin. “Aye, Mr Boggins! Here, she is for you.”

Bilbo looked at the brown pony, with large mane. “For-for me? Now, no need for that! I can walk all the while. And you know very well, Kili, that my name is not Boggins.”

Kili grinned as Fili peeped out from behind his pony. “All the while? Well, surely you won’t! We will be going through rocky terrains!”

“And deep marshes!” added Kili.

“Stones that can cut your feet,” Fili said, walking up.

“And insects that would worm inside your clothes,” Kili continued.

“Surely, you need protection!”

And before Bilbo could let out another word, the dwarves were on their ponies, and were pulling Bilbo up on the brown pony they had deemed his.

“Have fun with Myrtle!” Kili chortled, before laughing with his brother and taking off behind the dwarves who had already taken off.

In spite of the situation, Bilbo allowed himself to chuckle. Thorin’s nephews were truly something else. He looked down at the pony, contemplating his whole life, before urging the animal to move forward.

Myrtle almost broke out into a run before Gandalf intervened and brought both Bilbo and the pony back on track, just after the Ri brother and in front of Kili and Oin.

Soon enough they were on the road. It was then that Bilbo began to sneeze and realized that he had forgotten his handkerchief.

“Bugger,” muttered Bilbo, but before he could say something to the rest of the Company, Gandalf pushed a hanky under bilbo’s nose.

“Where did you get this?” Bilbo asked, happy to have his possession in hand.

“A certain dwarf gave it to me,” Gandalf said with a twinkling smile.

Unable to stop himself, Bilbo beamed. He pushed the handkerchief in his pocket before riding along with the rest. They were barely out of Shire when suddenly, pouches of coins were being thrown across the dwarrows.

“What...”

“They had wagered on whether or not you will come,” Gandalf said, catching his own bag of coins, “After the passing out stunt you pulled last night.”

“Even though I signed the contract?”

Gandalf nodded. Bilbo huffed, looking far ahead. Thorin, he noticed, took no part in such things. But of course, Thorin wouldn’t. He was a king.

* * *

“ _BURGLAR!”_

_Curse his stars. Curse his prize-winning tomatoes. Curse his grandfather who had introduce him to Thorin Oakenshield. Curse his own mother who decided he needed to learn a lesson and gotten him to serve under Thorin for a month._

_Cure them all._

“ _What?” Bilbo asked, dramatically flopping down on the bench._

_A few weeks ago, the dwarf’s glares could melt the skin off his bones._

_Now, they did nothing more than irritate the young hobbit._

“ _Where are my tools, burglar?”_

“ _Not a burglar,” muttered Bilbo, though he couldn’t stop the smile that came on his face, “And I just put them away, over there, so that you don’t hurt yourself.”_

_Thorin huffed and glare.d Bilbo glared back. Despite whatever Thorin said, Bilbo was not actually stealing._

_It did not constitute as stealing if you were just moving things around the shop._

_Giving up on the hopeless endeavour, Thorin turned around and muttered something in his secret language. At this point, Bilbo did not even care if the dwarf was throwing insults at him._

“ _Ah, Master Baggins!”_

_Bilbo put on a smile and turned to see Mr and Mr Greenthumb. Both of them, in one place? Oh, dear._

“ _Hello Mr Greenthumb, how are your pigs? How are your cabbages?”_

_The one on the left, the one who did not look like someone had put a rotten radish below his nose, laughed warmly, “They are well, my boy, everything is well.”_

“ _We were here to invite the dwarf,” said the other Mr Greenthumb, “he has all but become a part of Shire.”_

_More like wormed his way into through Thain’s good books, though Bilbo, but outwardly he merely smiled._

“ _MR OAKENSHIELD! YOU HAVE GUESTS!”_

_There was a clacking of a hammer and a number of words which Bilbo assumed were curse words in Dwarven language. He did not like shouting at the forge._

_Thorin came out thundering but stopped when he saw the couple standing. Putting on his neutral face, which was more like a broody face, Thorin bowed._

“ _Mr Greenthumb, how can I help you both?”_

“ _We are here to invite you to our son’s party!” Mr ‘excited’ Greenthumb said._

_Bilbo’s eyes lit up at the admission, “You had a boy! Oh, many, many congratulations! May the Green Lady bless your child.”_

_The couple huffed. “Thank you! He just crawled out of the soil last night. Gave Ardo here a heart attack. It was so dark and if we weren’t keeping watch, who knew what could have happened? But he is safe now, safe and oh so beautiful.”_

“ _I am sure,” Bilbo said, almost jumping against the counter._

_The couple turned to Thorin and said, “We will be hosting a small party. Half of Shire is turning up, and we were hoping you could come too.”_

_Thorin gaped at the couple, before deciding on nodding. The Hobbits both smiled, before saying their goodbyes and shouting that the party was at three. Bilbo knew the other half of Shire was going to turn up anyway- nobody would miss a chance for free ale and gifts._

_When Bilbo turned around, he saw Thorin frowning at the ground. As if the poor ground had just sprouted the secrets of the Valar and Thorin understood none of it._

“ _What is it, Mr Oakenshield?”_

_The dwarf looked at him, still frowning, “They said their son crawled out from the soil.”_

“ _Where else would they crawl our from?” asked Bilbo, confused, “Neither of Mr Greenthumbs is related to Tooks to get the fairy blood. They would have to grow their fauntlings in the garden. Thank goodness they have a son now, poor fellows. They had been trying for a while, but each year the harvest failed them. Not very common in the Shire lemme tell you.”_

_If anything, Thorin looked more confused by the admission._

_Bilbo threw his hands in the air and walked inside the forge to get cleaning again. The dwarf was the most peculiar of them all._

* * *

The next few days passed mostly on the ponies backside. The Company of Dwarves, while not cold, were not very forthcoming to the Hobbit.

Bilbo finally began to identify the other dwarves who had come and destroyed his home. There was Dwalin, Thorin’s loyal guard and friend who rose with him. He spoke only when necessary. Balin, on the other hand, was warm and welcoming towards the Hobbit and answered with gusto whenever Bilbo asked something.

Gloin, the red-headed dwarf, was enamoured by his wife and child, and all Bilbo had to do was ask about them to get into his good books. The moment Gloin began the tales of his family, everybody groaned, but Bilbo found himself interested in the tales of young Gimli. Oin, Gloin’s brother and company healer was not completely deaf. Bilbo had a feeling that he just pretended to not hear when he didn’t want to. But he was warm towards Bilbo from the beginning, so he had little to worry about.

The Ri brothers were something of a mystery. Truly, Bilbo could see no familial resemblance among them. Dori was polite, but very snappish when irritated and quite overprotective. He continued to eye Bilbo warily as if he was going to take Ori and run away in the wilderness. Nori, the second Ri brother, was aloof, but quite the troublemakers. Bilbo had lost his belongings thrice in the two days only to find them in Nori’s possession. Other than that, Bilbo had no conversations with the dwarf.

Ori however, was a lovely boy. He did not talk to Bilbo, probably worried about his brother, but whenever they did exchange pleasantries he was the most cheerful one and the kindest.

The Ur cousins were, well, quite unique in their own way. Bofur was unnaturally cheerful, talking about the dragon and the war as if he was planning a picnic by the river. But something about him drew Bilbo in, and so he spent ages sitting beside him and talking to him. The cousin, Bifur, had an axe in his head and Bilbo had no idea what to make out of him. Bombur was, of course, easy. He made delicious stew and usually ate half of it.

They still had qualms about him. It did not hurt Bilbo much, for Kili and Fili had readily taken Bilbo under their wing. Those two were worse and better than what Thorin had described them. Mischievous, surely, and somewhat like what Bilbo had been in his youth, but they understood the severity of the quest as well as any other. They joked around, keeping the mood of the company light, and had taken it upon themselves to educate Bilbo in the ways of Dwarrow. Bilbo knew most of it and more, but he allowed the boys to have their say.

“All the dwarves love their craft,” Fili was saying on the third day of their journey, riding on Bilbo’s left, while Kili rode just behind them. “Like Uncle. He loves his smelting and metalwork.”

Bilbo couldn’t help but huff. “Don’t I know it.”

Even after coming back to the Shire to meet him, if left to his own devices Thorin would spend all day in his forge rather than spend time with his husband. Yes, all right, he didn’t garden or cook, but he could keep Bilbo company at the very least?

“Have you known him for long?” asked Kili, leaning forward, “You seemed quite close to him.”

Bilbo looked at the two brothers, startled. “Well...everybody knows of the dwarf smith in the Shire. Not much happens in our little home, and when Th-Mr Oakenshield came to our humble adobe, it was hard not to notice him.”

The boys seemed oblivious to his slip, as Kili and Fili shared an excited grin. “Tell us about him!”

Bilbo blinked. “He is your uncle. Surely you know much about him!”

“Well, yes,” Kili said with a grin, “But tell us the general gossip.”

“You see, Amad has declared Thorin bearable ever since he started going to the Shire,” Fili said in a conspirational tone, “And it is a huge honour to bestow upon him.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, he is always brooding,” Kili said in a mock whisper. Bilbo could hear some of the dwarves snort and he couldn’t stop the chuckle either.

“But ever since he started going to the Shire, he is, well, less broody,” said Fili with a grin, “Mother says it’s the green hills and freshwater, but we dwarves are not meant for fresh soil.”

“If you ask me,” Kili said, adding to his brother's conspiracy, “I say he has taken a lass in the Shire.”

Bilbo hummed, amused, “Do you now?”

“Well of course!” Fili said, “He has all but banned suitors in Ered Luin and I have never seen him with anyone before. Surely, he is hiding someone!”

Before the two brothers could continue their conspiracies with Bilbo, Thorin called for a halt and to camp on the rocks.

The ponies were tied, and Bombur went about to cook for all. Kili and Fili were instructed on taking the first night duty, and being scolded by their uncle and Dwalin too, Bilbo noticed.

He turned to see Balin chuckle at their plight. “I hope the boys were not too much for you, laddie.”

Bilbo laughed, “No, no, not at all. They keep the cogs in my head running and manage to entertain me too. I really do hope that he,” he gestured to Thorin, “does not punish the boys too much. They were jesting, I know.”

“Thorin knows,” Balin said, “Fili and Kili are one of the many reasons we are able to make this journey. Young, excited, a bit mischievous but brave and daring. They give us hope for the future. Reminds me of another set of Princes.”

It took a moment for Bilbo to realize that Balin was talking about Thorin, and his dead brother Frerin. He knew the basics of Thorin’s family. His brother and mother had perished in the Dragon fire while Thorin lost his father and grandfather in the Battle of Moria. But Bilbo had never really heard about Thorin’s childhood.

Feeling lucky, Bilbo pushed his luck. “Do you mean him? Mr Oakenshield?”

Balin nodded. “Aye. I was there when Thorin’s grandfather, King Thror, ruled the kingdom. His line was secured in his son, Thrain and grandson, Thorin. Our King did not have much responsibility back then, so he and his brother, Frerin, and their sister, Dis, Kili and Fili’s mother, were quite the terror.”

Bilbo laughed. He took the bowl from Bombur before passing one to Balin and then settling down beside the old dwarf.

“Are you saying that Thorin Oakenshied was a mischievous young man?”

“Well,” Balin gave him a grin and stirred his spoon, “I wouldn’t say mischievous. He was always aware of his responsibilities. Prince Frerin was the mischievous one, and Lady Dis was the worst of the lot.”

Bilbo chuckled as Balin continued, “But he was the eldest brother, and when his siblings got into trouble, they relied on him to get them out. And so he did. He would take all the responsibility for their pranks, which varied from setting ponies open to running off in the woods to mixing up the jewels in the treasury. Everybody knew he was lying, but when a Dwarf owns up, what are you to say?”

Bilbo nodded, a small smile on his face.“Yeah, that sounds like him.”

Balin looked at Bilbo, a confused expression on his face, before nodding. “He was like Fili, not overly mischievous yet fun enough. But no, no, enough of the musings of an old dwarf. I don’t think Thorin will take me telling his tales to anyone very lightly.”

_But I am not anyone,_ thought Bilbo, but said nothing.

“Tell me about you, Mr Baggins.”

“Me?” Bilbo spluttered, “Well, I am afraid I am not quite interesting.”

“The boys wouldn’t take interest in just anyone. Don’t be shy, laddie.”

Bilbo sat back, before saying, “Well, if you must know. I am a Baggins, as you are well aware, but my mother was a Took. Now, Tooks, have been notorious for their adventure streak...”

And so Bilbo sat and told the story of Tooks and Brandybucks and Worryworts and Baggins to Balin. At one point, Ori had inched closer, listening eagerly to all about Hobbits. Bofur too had begun to lean in, interested in the stories of the Shire as Balin and Bilbo chuckled at tales of children.

As  the  night grew darker, everybody else scurried off to sleep. Bilbo, however, could not sleep like any other for th e dwarves snored. Especially Gloin. That dwarf snored like nobody’s business. So Bilbo sat up, gave a nod to th e two brothers  who were on night duty and smuggle d an apple to Myrtle. And then he heard the howl s and screeches .

The  ones  not unlike th e ones that haunted his dreams of Fell  W inter.

Bilbo felt his hands grow cold at the mere memory of it. The river freezing over, the howls that became as common as the thumping on the wooden doors of the hobbit holes. 

“What was that?” he asked, despite knowing the answer.

Kili looked serious, which was a feat in itself. “Orcs.”

“Orcs?” asked Bilbo, quite loudly. Thorin woke up at once, looking around ready to attack.

“Throat cutters,” added Fili, “there’ll be dozens of them out there. The lone lands are crawling with them.”

“They strike in the wee small hours when everyone’s asleep,” added Kili, “Quick and quiet, no screams. Just lots of blood.”

Bilbo could feel his heart beating faster. Yes, yes, if wolves could create so much disturbance, their riders would be worse. They would be smarter too, to handle those feral creatures. And then, then...

“You think that’s funny?”

Bilbo jumped at Thorin’s voice. He turned around to see smiles slip off the boys’ faces.

Oh. Oh, dear.

“You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?’ demanded Thorin.

“We didn’t mean anything by it,” mumbled Kili. Bilbo might have felt for the lad if he was not terrified out of his wits.

“No you didn’t,” said Thorin, “You know nothing of the world.”

Saying so, Thorin walked off. He sent a look towards Bilbo, and Bilbo in turn very briefly nodded. He was fine. He would be fine. The orcs, if they were even there, were nowhere close and he had a company of dwarves with him.

“Don’t mind him, laddie,” said Balin, coming up, “Thorin has more cause than others to hate Orcs.”

B ilbo sat down as  Balin began the tale of the battle of Azanulbizar.  He knew the tale, told to him on nights when Thorin could not truly control his fears.

“ _My Grandfather believed that we could take a stand at Khazad-Dum, or Moria, as you might know,”_ Thorin had told him, “ _And he led all the soldiers willing to fight. The envoys of all the Sveen Kingdoms answered to his call. The thought of reclaiming our ancient land sat well with everyone.”_

“ _But the orcs had reached there before, and it was a bloody battle. Oh, Bilbo, it was not worth anything. We fought and we lost more than we could have ever expected to gain. In the end, we had no home. We were left with fewer allies than before. My grandfather’s head was severed, my father...gone. Missing, still waiting to be found. And out of all that, I became the King.”_

“ _There was no grand declaration. When we came back, none else remained, except my sister Dis who was never trained to take over the role. Never even taught to be a Princess, if truth be told. I was not even of age, yet it was my responsibility. So I took it. Nobles did not like it- they thought me young. But my cousins supported me, and they are the reason I sit here today.”_

“That is when I saw him,” said Balin. Bilbo broke out of his own memories, watching as Balin looked fondly upon Thorin’s back, “A young Dwarf Prince facing down the Pale Orc.”

Bilbo too couldn’t help but gaze at Thorin’s back. “He stood alone against this terrible foe. His armour rent wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield. Azog the Defiler learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken.”

Bilbo wanted to laugh. At that moment, there were no Fili or Kili. It was Thorin and Dis. “Our forces rallied and drove the Orcs back. And our enemy had been defeated.”

Balin’s voice grew sombre, yet hopeful as he continued, “But there was no feast nor song that night for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived. And I thought to myself then there is one who I could follow. There is one I could call king.”

The dwarves rose, staring at him, and Bilbo himself couldn’t truly look away from Thorin, the King under the Mountain. He said nothing, acknowledging all with a slight bow.

A question bubbled up in Bilbo’s head, “And the pale Orc? What happened to him?”

“He slunk back into the hole whence he came,” said Thorin, and Bilbo had never heard so much venom in his voice, not even when he talked of Smaug. “That filth died of his wounds long ago.”

Bilbo turned to Balin for confirmation, but something on his face suggested that he did not share the same belief as Thorin. 

Sleep did not come easy then. Fili and Kili were ushered back to sleep, and they apologized profusely to Bilbo before sleeping. He just shook his head, telling he would talk to them the next morn. Dwalin and Gloin took the next watch, but even without the snores, Bilbo couldn’t sleep.

In the wee hours of the morning, when the world is not truly awake and yet not completely asleep, Bilbo walked around the rocky terrain to look for Thorin, hidden from the rest. Gandalf looked at him go and waved his staff.

Bilbo wondered if the wizard ever slept.

“You never really told me the tale of that Battle like that,” Bilbo whispered, settling down beside Thorin, away from the prying eyes of the other dwarrows.

Thorin did not look at him. “Balin exaggerates.”

“That did not sound like an exaggeration.”

Thorin said nothing as Bilbo fixed his pipe and passed it to Thorin first. They sat in silence for a while, before Bilbo spoke up.

“I think I understand.”

Thorin raised an eyebrow.

“Why this quest is so important for you.”

Thorin had a ghost of a smile on his face.

“Doesn’t mean I still quite support you.”

“You can still turn back.”

“Over my dead body.”

“That would never happen,” Thorin said seriously, “I would never let that happen.”

“Good,” Bilbo said, “then I will not leave.”

The two sat in silence, sharing a pipe before Bilbo got up and stretched, ready for the day that was to come.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EEEP! See ya all next time!


	4. Save You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Company reaches the Troll Shaw....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY!  
> This was supposed to be updated on Friday but me being me...I couldn't write! UGHH! Now, we are shifting the whole update schedule. To make up for this almost week tardiness, I will give you three updates in some coming week.  
> Sorry!  
> I have also written the last chapter for this story. boy was that hard! I still haven't written a lot of middle chapters but here's to hoping.  
> Without any further delay, here's the chapter

For the next week, it rained. And Bilbo hated it. Despite all his preparations, he had forgotten a good coat to shield him from rain. He had furs to protect him against cold, but not against rain.

Thorin, if anything, looked smug at Bilbo’s discomfort. On normal days Bilbo would have given him a sharp whack on the head, but as of now, he was held back by merely glaring at the dwarf King.

He was not the only one troubled by the continuous rains. Bofur, of all dwarves, was feeling down. Kili and Fili were at their wits ends and it was Dori who finally snapped and asked Gandalf to stop the rain.

Bilbo would’ve laughed if he was not so grouchy.

* * *

_Bilbo ran down the road, jumping and whistling in the wee hours of the morning. It was his last day of being tortured under King Broody the Grouchy. Every day, he would turn up late in the shop, give a smile to the dwarf which irritated him and get along working and managing hobbits who came with their ware. Once the hobbits slimmed down, Bilbo would hide Thorin’s weapons and tools and sit back and enjoy the drama unfold._

_For the last day, Bilbo thought that nothing could surprise the dwarf more than him turning in early. Usually, Bilbo would never even leave the house before second breakfast, but he wanted to irritate the hell out of this king. Leaving just after First breakfast was perhaps not the best idea, but Bilbo was in high mood._

_The Shire was still awakening as Bilbo made his way to the forge, Pushing open the door, Bilbo stopped his whistling. He was about to shout when he heard a swish._

_Unlike anything Bilbo had ever heard, the sound came one after the other. It was not like those tools that Thorin used._

_Curious, Bilbo stepped inside without declaring his presence._

_Boy, was that a mistake._

_His dear Took cousin Forry had told him how he felt whenever he saw Laila. He had said his throat would go dry, his heart would stop beating, and his legs would turn to jelly. Bilbo had laughed at him, but now, oh dear._

_Thorin was holding a sword in one hand and a battle-axe in the other. He moved with much more grace than Bilbo would have ever thought was possible for the dwarf. His hair was open, oily and definitely not braided._

_But nothing came close to his body. He was well toned and hairy. Bilbo was not surprised, but oh dear sweet Yavannah. His movements were well practised, and every time he would raise his hand or move his chest, Bilbo’s heart would skip a beat._

_He had to lean on the walls to stand. All that he tried, Bilbo could not tear away from his gaze from this beautiful dwarf._

'Beautiful? What in the name of Shire Bilbo!'

“ _Have I been hallucinating or has young Mr Baggins decided to grace me with an early presence?”_

_The tip of Bilbo’s ears reddened. He ducked his head, ignoring the smile on his face. His smile was oh so pretty._

'Get a grip on yourself lad!'

“ _I am not young,” mumbled Bilbo._

_Thorin chuckled, and if it wasn’t a sound as melodious as the jingling of bells._

'What is happening???'

“ _I am older than your grandfather,” said Thorin, “you are very young.”_

“ _I am not stupid, you know,” said Bilbo, ignoring the thumping of his heart, “You dwarfs lives for centuries, we Hobbits do not. So even if you are older than my Grandfather, I know very well that we might just be the same age.”_

_Thorin looked at him unimpressed but Bilbo was never the one to be back down. And if it meant staring at the chiselled body for a longer while, well, Bilbo was not complaining._

“ _What are you staring at, you burglar?”_

 _Bilbo had to stop the blush from rising on his cheeks. '_ Think fast, think fast...'

“ _The Sword!”_

'Nice save.'

_Thorin raised an eyebrow. “The sword?”_

“ _I have always wanted to learn. Mum was more into archery but from her adventures, I have heard of all the great warriors who have used swords and I want to learn. But then nobody here in Hobbiton can actually wield one and the sword is always too big...so...”_

_Bilbo gulped as Thorin stared at him. His babbling had clearly not convinced the dwarf. Bilbo could only pray to sweet Yavannah that she would save him._

“ _You know how to shoot a bow?”_

_Bilbo looked up in surprise. “Of-of course! Mum taught me at a young age. That and conkers- nobody can beat me.”_

“ _You are the first Hobbit who has even said he wanted to learn how to yield a sword.”_

_This was the first longest conversation they had ever had, and Bilbo would be damnded if he let this chance go._

“ _Hobbits are peaceful creatures, Mr Oakenshield. We do not care for wars and battles as long as there’s plenty of food, ale and pipe. We care more for our children and our soil. So yes, Hobbits do not generally like to fight. I am, however, a Took in blood, and we are the most adventurous of the lot. I personally would love nothing more than to learn new things, go on adventures, see forests and mountains and city of men. Ah, it’s a wide world out there, and I want to know everything.”_

_When Bilbo stopped, he realized he had said a lot. Thorin was looking at him as if he had seen Bilbo for the first time._

“ _You want to learn.”_

“ _Yes.”_

“ _Hmm,” Thorin put down his weapons and crossed his arms. It should not have looked as good as it did, “I could teach you.”_

_Bilbo’s head snapped up, “What?”_

“ _Unless you would have me out fo your hair. Today’s is our last working day, is it not? Of course, you would rather be at home than-”_

“ _No, no, no, stop!” Bilbo jumped up like a fauntling, “You could teach me? Have you ever taught anyone?”_

“ _Both my nephews,” Thorin said with a hint of pride, “they have not even reached their majority yet Fili is considered one of the best. Kili too, but he, unfortunately, prefers a bow.”_

_Bilbo’s eyes widened. “But, I do not have a sword. As I said, they are all too big.”_

“ _I can make you one.”_

“ _You’ll do that?”_

_Thorin shrugged._

“ _What would be the price?”_

“ _Only that you are diligent and not as laid back as you were at the forge. I have taken more than enough from your people, and I want nothing except goodwill.”_

_If Bilbo began to jump around and shout like a maddening Hobbit, Thorin did not say anything._

* * *

When the rain finally stopped, Bilbo felt like a heavy weight was lifted off from his chest. He could breathe again. It felt wonderful.

They stopped near an abandoned and destroyed hut. Bilbo was too glad to finally step down on dry grass to actually listen to Thorin and Gandalf bicker. They always bickered. Thorin was not someone who would admit he was wrong easily, and Gandalf just knew everything

There was never a worse pair on all of Middle Earth.

Furthermore, from what Bilbo could hear, they were talking about Elves. After years and years of fights had Thorin finally stopped saying Elves like it was a curse word. Bilbo knew that if Gandalf was trying to lead the Company to the Elves, he was surely fighting a lost fight.

You never put an Elf and a Dwarf under the same roof.

Saying that, Bilbo would love to see Rivendell. His mother travelled there and Lord Elrond was a bedtime story for Bilbo. Oh, what would he not give to actually stop in that valley, see the huge libraries, walk in the ever-fragrant gardens. But this journey would not offer him that.

It was when Gandalf began to storm off that Bilbo realized Thorin was being unbearable that day.

“Everything all right?”

When Gandalf just walked past him, Bilbo grew worried. “Gandalf, where are you going?”

“To seek the company of the only one around here who’s got any sense,” said Gandalf, in his own quizzical manner.

Bilbo, not in a mood for riddles, asked, “And who’s that?”

“Myself, Mr Baggins!” shouted Gandalf. “I’ve had enough of Dwarves for one day.”

Bilbo turned to look at Thorin, who looked disinterested and angry, “Come on, Bumbur, we are hungry.”

He turned to Balin, the only sane dwarf, according to Bilbo, “Is he coming back?”

Balin just gave him a look, before turning to where Gandalf had galloped away.

Night fell, and everyone was in high spirits. But Bilbo couldn’t help and worry about Gandalf. He might be old, wise and whatnot, but he was a friend, and Bilbo worried.

Bofur, back to his usual self, did not care one bit and just handed him stew for the boys. Bilbo agreed, following the trail of horses before coming up to Kili and Fili and handing them the stew.

But the boys remains immovable and were frowning. It was not their ‘prank’ frown, but rather ‘we’re in trouble’ frown.

“What’s the matter?”

“We’re supposed to be looking after the ponies,” Kili said in a rush.

“Only we’ve encountered a...slight problem,” finished Fili.

Bilbo looked at the ponies tied there, “We had 16.”

“Now there’s 14.”

Bilbo gaped as Kili and Fili took off, running around.

“Daisy and Bungo are missing,” and wasn’t Bilbo going to have words with these dwarfs later about naming one of their ponies after his father.

“Well, that’s not good,” Bilbo said, before his eyes landed on the uprooted tree, “Haha, and that is not good at all. Shouldn’t we tell Thorin?”

“Uh,” Fili looked hesitantly at Kili, “no. Let’s not worry him.”

More like they did not want to face Thorin’s wrath.

“As our official burglar, we thought you might like to look into it.”

And take the blame off their shoulders, somehow.

Bilbo sighed, before stating the obvious. The tree was uprooted. It could not be uprooted by anything normal sized, so it had to be huge. Bilbo’s head went through a thousand possibilities that this could go wrong.

It was then that Fili spotted a light. Bilbo, like the good Uncle he was, followed his idiotic nephews-in-law to the fallen trunk, holding the two bowls in his hands.

There was a fire in a distance, and someone was grunting and laughing. Deep in his heart, Bilbo knew what it was. But he hoped he was wrong.

“What is it?”

Kili, in all his glory, said, “Trolls.”

Before Bilbo could truly comprehend what was happening, the two young Durins were jumping and running away. Bilbo, like a good Uncle, decided to follow his nephews. But they had to eat. So Bilbo went back, picked up the bowls and ran after the two idiots.

It was then that Bilbo spotted it. Bigger than Bilbo had anticipated, the troll held two more of their ponies, Myrtle and Minty.

Bilbo tried to run as fast as he could to hide behind a huge tree. Each step that the Troll took, Bilbo could feel the ground shake beside him.

The next moment, somehow, Bilbo was being pushed towards the trolls. Kili and Fili had taken the bowls from his hand and given him a vague instruction about owl hoots. When he turned around, they were gone.

Damn them all.

“Mutton yesterday,” growled one of the trolls, “Mutton today, and blimey, if it don’t look like mutton again tomorrow.”

Bilbo took a deep breath in, straightened his waistcoat and walked forward.

“Quit your gripping!” said one of the other trolls. “There ain’t sheep. These is fresh nags.”

There was a nice fire in the centre, and two trolls sat around it. A huge pot was bubbling with whatever it was that Trolls cooked. It smelled disgusting though, but Bilbo kept quiet. The last troll put down the horses in an enclosed space.

Ignoring the talks of a leathery farmer and how bad horses tasted- Bilbo could feel a weight settle down in his stomach, but he had to keep moving forward- he walked into the enemy’s territory.

The trolls were fighting over something- Bilbo was vaguely aware that one of them had sneezed into their food and now wasn’t that a disgusting thing. He quietly made his way to the ponies as the trolls continued to bicker. They were happily neighing, but Bilbo sushed them up.

But the knot was tight, and far too big for him. Matter how much the small hobbit tried, he could not untie it.

The troll turned, the one that was continuously complaining, and Bilbo turned. Ignoring his fast heartbeat- it had never been that fast in his life- Bilbo waited until he was hit by one of the other trolls.

“You’ll eat what I give you!”

There it was, a shiny, sharp weapon. Not very big, Bilbo could handle it. If he cut the rope, the ponies would be able to bolt. Get to safety.

It was not a smart plan, and any hobbit would laugh at his foolishness. But Bilbo very firmly believed that he had given up on any sort of sanity the day he had fallen for his dwarf husband.

Oh, dear. Thorin would have his head if he found out what Bilbo was doing.

Bilbo had to turn, to look if the dwarves were coming. If this went well, Thorin would kill his nephews and then Bilbo. If this went badly, Thorin would kill his nephews for endangering Bilbo.

Either way he was going to die Why not die doing something foolish?

Bilbo crawled, and he almost got picked up. The troll fell, and he could have very well been picked up. Ignoring the grime and bones on the ground- oh Yavannah, if he ever went back to teh Shire, he would not complain about the ground ever again- Bilbo made his way to the weapon.

He was this close, _this close_ to taking out the weapon when the damned troll clutched him and used his as a handkerchief.

Years of washing would not take away the stench. Bilbo knew it.

“Blimey!” the troll shouted. “Bert. Bert! Look what came out of my hooter. It’s got arms and legs and everything.”

Bilbo tried to move, to get away from the ever-present stench when the Troll threw him on the ground. He barely had time to stand up when the trolls surrounded him.

“What are you then?” demanded the one which had stolen his ponies, “An oversized squirrel?”

“I’m a burglar...um, Hobbit.” Bilbo Baggins said respectfully.

“A burglar hobbit?” asked the other troll.

“Can we cook him?”

“We can try.”

That was how he was going to end, then? In a disgusting stew being devoured by trolls. Of course.

Bilbo broke out in a run at once, but the last troll, which had been missing, immediately blocked him. “He wouldn’t make more than a mouthful. Not when he’s skinned and boned.”

The troll hit him with his hot and heavy spoon, and Bilbo knew it was going to bruise. He was also going to die. Oh dear, this was not the kind of adventure he wanted. At all.

“Perhaps there’s more burglar Hobbits around these parts,” the troll said. “Might be enough for a pie.”

Nope. No. They could kill him, skin him, do whatever they wanted to do with him but they were not going to touch his dwarves.

 _His dwarves?!_ When had the company become his dwarves?

The trolls continued to play with him and Bilbo tried to bolt. He needed to warn the dwarrows.

But then, his Tookish tendencies would only last that long until he was being hoisted upside down by the trolls.

“Are there any more of your little fellas hiding where you shouldn’t?”

“No.”

“He’s lying.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Hold his toes over the fire. Make him squeal.”

As if one cue, Kili came barging into the clearing and hit the complaining Troll on his legs. Bilbo had never been gladder to gaze upon that childish face in his life.

“Drop him!”

He sounded as authoritative as Thorin, now if only his voice was more like his Uncle’s and it would’ve worked. Maybe. Perhaps.

“You what?” demanded the troll.

“I said,” Kili rolled his sword around and held it by both his hands, “Drop him.”

Of course, the troll had to go and throw him over Kili. They were both going to bruise terribly.

Before Bilbo could look up, Thorin and the Company came charging into the clearing.

“You smell horrid,” commented Kili, before pulling himself up and joining the fight. If Kili believed he smelled horrid, then Bilbo was doomed.

Bilbo desperately wished he had his crossbow or something to fight, but it was all for nought. So he made his way to the ponies. The dwarrows were handling the trolls well enough, so Bilbo focused on the animals.

The weapon Bilbo had been searching for was lying there, and he immediately rushed to free the ponies.

The ponies bolted, and Bilbo took a deep breath. But luck never truly sided with him, for the very next moment, he was being hoisted up by one of the trolls.

Bilbo was unable to make a sound as the trolls held him up. He could just gape at the dwarves as the Troll made his demand.

“Lay down your arms, or we’ll rip his off.”

Bilbo tried to look at Thorin, trying to shake his head, telling him no, no, just finish these creatures off.

Thorin looked at him, his own eyes wide. Bilbo, in his heart, knew what was to come. But he still could not help and sigh when Thorin buried his sword in the ground

* * *

“ _Learning swordsmanship? Belladonna!”_

_Bilbo ignored his father’s cry as he dashed off to the river. His mother would explain it all to Bungo Baggins. Right now, all he cared about was the classes that he was going to take.  
_

_Ignoring the calls of Hobbits working in their gardens and lounging in the sun, Bilbo made his way to the riverside where he and Thorin had planned to meet. It was a small clearing, hidden from the other hobbits by the trees. No water-fearing Hobbit would ever dare to go there, but thorin was a dwarf, and Bilbo was not someone who quite fit in the social structure._

_So there he was, standing on the edge of the river, watching as Thorin practised his movements. He had a shirt on, unfortunately, but Bilbo relished all that he could see._

_Thorin, however, spotted his far too fast._

_"You're early," commented Thorin, surprise evident in his voice._

_"Obviously," Bilbo rolled his eyes, "You are going to teach me how to fight!"_

_Thorin smiled softly, and Bilbo could only stare. How had he not noticed how pretty Thorin looked when he smiled? there was something absolutely calming in the way his lips turned up, something Bilbo wanted to relish forever._

_Oh dear, his crush was definitely going out of hand._

_"All right, Mr Baggins," Thorin said, "Come here."_

_Bilbo did so. Thorin pulled a bundle from the ground and thrust it towards Bilbo. The Hobbit slowly unwrapped the leather. As the silver metal came in view, Bilbo couldn't help but gasp._

_The sword was just his size, with a firm handle. Bilbo stopped himself from running his fingers against the sharp edge. It was swift and beautiful and very light in his hands._

_"Thorin," Bilbo choked as he held the sword in his hands, "Thank you. So much."_

_Thorin bowed, clearly happy. "Shall we begin?"_

* * *

They were divided into two groups. One group was being roasted over the fire, sacked while the other lay on the ground, to be roasted next. Bilbo was well aware of Thorin lying not far from him, and he could feel the glare on his head. As if it was his fault that they gave up their arms. The dwarrows could have one!

Logically, Bilbo knew he was just being stupid. But Thorin’s glare could melt metals, and bilbo was made of flesh.

“They should be sauteed and grilled with a sprinkle of sage.”

Bilbo felt his stomach drop as Balin asked, “Is this really necessary?”

“That does sound quite nice.”

Ignoring the dwarves’ complaints, Bilbo focused on what the trolls were planning. “Never mind the seasoning. We ain’t got all night. Dawn ain’t far away. let’s get a move on. I don’t fancy being turned into stone.”

When the genius strikes, Bilbo feels his head getting clearer. Hearing the trolls talk of their own demise certainly counted as that.

“Wait!”

Bilbo jumped up, his hands still bound, and he hopped towards the trolls. “you are making a terrible mistake.”

“You can’t reason with them,” Dori shouted from being roasted, “they’re half-wits!”

Ignoring him, Bilbo said, “I meant with the seasoning.”

That got the Troll’s attention. William, he was called. Or maybe Bert. Or perhaps Tom?

“What about the seasoning?”

“Well, have you smelt them?” Bilbo babbled, “You’re gonna need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up.”

Ignoring the shouts of traitor and whatnot, Bilbo jumped towards the troll.

“What do you know about cooking dwarf?” asked one of the other trolls.

“Shut up!” said the cook troll, “Let the flurgaburburhobbit speak.”

Ignoring the blatant disrespect of his name, Bilbo smiled, “The secret to cooking Dwarf is...”

What? What could he possibly tell these dumb half-witted creatures that could save them all?

“Yes? Tell us the secrets!”

“It’s, uh, Yes, I am telling you, the secret is, um, to......skin them first,”

Ignoring the cries, Bilbo held his ground, Skin them? Was he trying to get them killed quickly? Faster?

To his utmost relief, Bilbo could see the beginning of dawn and, and, GANDALF!

Oh, thank all the Valar, if Gandalf was there, they would be safe.

But then the troll held up Bombur, and Bilbo felt his heart stop.

“Oh, not that one!” Bilbo shouted, getting their attention again, “He’s infected!”

Thorin was never going to let him live this down, once he was done with him.

At the Troll’s surprised ‘huh’, Bilbo jumped up. Metaphorically. “Yeah, he’s got worms...in his...tubes.”

The troll threw Bombur away, on Kili. Bilbo continued, “In fact, they all have. They’re infested with parasites. It’s a terrible business. I wouldn’t risk it, I wouldn’t.”

Behind him, the dwarrows began to shout in response. Oh, these dumb, half-witted creatures with brains filled with stones! Couldn’t they realize he was trying to save these idiots?

“We don’t have parasites! You have parasites!” shouted Kili, and Bilbo couldn’t help but groan.

But then Kili grunted, and everyone shut up. And then Oin spoke up, “I’ve got parasites as big as my arms.”

“Mine are the biggest parasites!” declared Kili, “I’ve got huge parasites.”

Bilbo breathed a sigh of relief. There was some hope left for these idiots after all.

“What do you suggest then?” demanded a troll, “Let them all go?”

Bilbo would agree, but then the troll pushed him and said, “you think I don’t know what you’re up to?”

Bilbo himself did not know what he was up to, truth be told.

“This little ferret is taking us for fools.”

“ _Ferret_?”

“The dawn will take you all!”

In all his life, Bilbo had never been gladder to hear the wizard’s voice. Never.

The trolls saw him and contemplated if they could eat him too. Gandalf thrust his stick on the stone, and it cracked. The early morning rays shone upon them, and Bilbo saw the Trolls turn to stone in front of his very eyes.

Once their pale complexion turned to grey, Bilbo squinted his eyes, just to check if he was indeed seeing this right. To his utmost happiness, he was.

Laughter boomed upon the camp, and Bilbo let out a deep breath. They were safe. They were all safe.

Gandalf climbed down and first of all pulled all the dwarrows from over the fire. Fili, poor boy, had fainted form all the nonsense. Next, he freed Bilbo, and then Bilbo moved on the other dwarrows.

Everything was fine.

“What were you thinking?”

Bilbo pinched the bridge of his nose before turning to Thorin. Of course, everything was not over. The dwarf looked ready to burst. “You could’ve died.”

“I think the phrase you are looking for is ‘Thank You’,” Bilbo said, irritated.

Kili coughed, which sounded suspiciously like a laugh. The Fundin brothers looked smug as Thorin continued to growl. “Those trolls could’ve finished you in a matter of moments.”

“But they did not, did they?” demanded Bilbo, “I survived, you all survived and our ponies survived.”

“We could have handled that.”

Bilbo snorted, “Yeah, sure. Came all barging in well enough. Thank you for that, I do not fancy being used as a handkerchief.”

Nori gave a dramatic bow. Bilbo grinned and turned back to Thorin, “Oh enough. The trolls are stone now.”

“Yes, yes indeed, “ said Gandalf, stepping in between the spouses, “Which means that these trolls could not have moved in daylight.”

Thorin turned and nodded. “There must be a cave nearby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it!


	5. Run WIth You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trolls have been defeated, but the wilds are not done with teh Company of Thorin Oakenshield.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey lovely readers! Thanks for all the reviews!  
> My best friend is the reason behind this update cause she wouldn't stop gushing about this fic. I mean, she has made my ego inflate so so much! So here's an update.
> 
> I am always open to feedback, be it on my writing skills, grammar or spellings. So feel free to point out any mistake that I might have made. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

The Troll Hoard smelled terribly and Bilbo would never want another smell of that horrid place in his life ever again, if he could help it. He was standing outside as Gandalf, Thorin, Bofur, Nori, Gloin and Dwalin walked inside.

Fili and Kili approached him with their heads bent and nose enlarged at the scent.

“We are very sorry, Mr Boggins,” said Kili, “We were clearly very foolish to send you into the Trolls’ area.”

“We are very ashamed, Mr Boggins,” added Fili, “We should have informed Thorin immediately.”

Bilbo frowned. Balin coughed in a distance, and the reality came crashing to Bilbo.

“Ah,” Bilbo said with a grin, “Balin put you up this, eh?”

The boys said nothing, but the smile was tell enough.

“It’s all right,” said Bilbo, “You did what you thought best. Now I have a good story to tell to fauntlings back at the Shire, especially with Kili shouting he has the biggest worms in his tubes.”

Fili burst out laughing, with Kili grumbling about the wrongness of the whole situation. Bilbo just grinned as he heard Bofur, Nori and Gloin gloating about their investment.

He shook his head at the dwarves’ antics. Bilbo decided to go to Balin and Ori who were busy trying to understand the relics left behind by the Trolls. There were many things that the Trolls had collected from their travels- valuable and mundane. Bilbo found himself getting fascinated by the variety.

It was then that Gandalf’s voice reached him.

Bilbo turned, walking up the older wizard. He pushed a sword at Bilbo. “Here. This is about your size.”

Bilbo looked at Gandalf with a quizzical eye, “You know I prefer my sword and bow well enough. I can’t take this, I don’t have space.”

Gandalf looked at him as a grandfather would look at his stupid grandchild, “The blade is of Elvish make, which means it would glow it will glow when Orcs or Goblins are nearby.”

He couldn’t help but gasp. Elvish...but then his eyes founded Thorin, looking at him with as much disdain as he could. Sighing, Bilbo turned to Gandalf, “I am better with a bow. My swordsmanship is only so well. Thorin was not exactly lying when he said that.”

Gandalf huffed, “I hope you never have to use this sword, Bilbo Baggins. But if you do, remember this: True courage is about knowing not when to take a life but when to spare one.”

Bilbo stared at Gandalf. For all his riddles and oddities, the man had some wise words to offer when mood struck him.

Thorin’s cry of ‘Something’s coming’ got everyone running, but Bilbo couldn’t help and pull out the sword for a look.

It was beautiful, with slick steel and elvish designs on the silver plane. Bilbo would be glad to yield it, even if he stubbed off someone’s toe and Thorin continued to glare at him.

He ran to the Company, his sword still unsheathed, his sword and bow on his back. He was surprised when a chariot if it could be called that, led by rabbits stopped in front of them. A small short man wearing brown robes and hat, not unlike Gandalf’s, looked around in confusion.

“Radagast!” Gandalf said with a smile. It clicked in Bilbo’s head that this was the brown wizard Gandalf was talking about earlier. “It’s Radagast the Brown.”

The dwarves put their weapons back. Bilbo huffed, putting his elvish sword back. Not it’s time to shine yet.

“Well, what on Earth are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you, Gandalf,” said the Brown wizard, “Something’s wrong. Something’s terribly wrong.”

“Yes?”

The wizard opened his mouth, then closed it, then again opened it and closed it yet again.

“Oh! I had a thought and now I’ve lost it. It was right there, on the tip of my tongue.”

Bilbo watched, half amused, half disgusted as Gandalf pulled a stick insect out the other wizard’s mouth.

So it was a wizard more like Gandalf.

The Grey Wizard took his new friend aside, for whatever privacy they could muster in an open space. Bilbo huffed, rummaging through his own pack, making sure all was well.

“Ah, laddie.”

Bilbo looked up at a smiling Balin. He couldn’t help but smile himself. “Well, Balin?”

The troll fight could not have gone well for the old dwarf. Warrior, he may be, but he was the oldest in the group.

“Very well, if I must say so myself,” he said with a chuckle, “I wanted to check up on you. How are you faring?”

Bilbo shrugged, “Well enough.”

“You must not mind Thorin,” Balin said. Bilbo looked up frowning, as Balin continued, “He gets very snappy when worried. And he was clearly very worried about you.”

“Well,” Bilbo could not handle the old conversation again, even if it was another dwarf, “He need not worry for me. I am not a child. I can handle myself well enough.”

“I know that boy,” said Balin, “But Thorin is...well, he worries.”

Bilbo snorted. That was the understatement of the century. Thorin worried, brooded, and did everything else he could possibly except accept that others could handle themselves. The weight of the world did not rest on his shoulders. He was more mothering than Bungo Baggins and that was saying something.

Before he could answer, a howl echoed in the forest.

“Is that a wolf?” demanded Bilbo, immediately standing up on his feet, “Are there wolves out there?”

“Wolves?” Bofur sounded scared and that was enough to scare Bilbo, “No those are not wolves.”

Before Bilbo could comprehend the sentence, a warg lunged from behind him and jumped on Thorin. The dwarf immediately put him down, but another warg from the other side prowled at the king. Kili shot him, and Thorin and Fili put the warg down with their axes.

Ignoring the thundering heartbeat, Bilbo pulled out his crossbow and looked at Thorin. But the dwarf king was not looking at him. He was unharmed and that was good. Very good, of course.

“An orc pack is not far behind!” declared Thorin. Bilbo gulped. Yes, orcs, of course. They were the only ones missing on this journey. Why not invite the Dark Lord at their next stop?

“Orc pack?” Thorin still did not look at him.

“Who did you tell about your quest beyond your kin?” demanded Gandalf.

“No one.”

“Who did you tell?” he asked forcefully.

“No one, I swear,” Thorin said, raising his voice. “What in Durin’s name is going on?”

“You are being hunted.”

Bilbo felt the life leave his body. Yes of course, they were being hunted. By orcs. Thorin was being hunted. Fili and Kili were being hunted.

When Ori declared that the ponies had bolted, Bilbo wanted to laugh.

Now wasn’t this just a lovely day?

* * *

“ _Up! Down! Move to your right! Jump! Duck!”_

_Bilbo gasped, moving his hands and legs at once. It had been weeks- weeks!- since he had started his sword training. The very first day Thorin had declared that his stance was wrong, and he had begun from scratch._

_Now, after many days of flailing his arms, Thorin believed that Bilbo was truly ready for basic training. So there he was, on the banks of the river, duelling with Thorin as he shouted commands._

_Sighing, Bilbo jumped to the left when Thorin attacked him._

“ _Hey!” Bilbo pouted, “You just shouted right!”_

_Thorin pulled back, glaring down at Bilbo. “When someone attacks you, Master Baggins, they will not tell you how they are going to harm you. They will mislead you.”_

_Bilbo huffed, “It’s not like I am going off to war.”_

_Thorin merely sighed, “This is the only way I know how to teach, Master Baggins. If you have a problem, find a different teacher.”_

_Grumbling to himself, Bilbo pulled his sword back again and charged at Thorin. Thorin turned and docked Bilbo’s attack, before pushing Bilbo on his knees. The hobbit barely had a moment to turn as Thorin attacked. He jumped back on his feet and pushed his sword in a defensive position._

_All the days they had spent together, Bilbo could not ignore how pretty the dwarf looked. Or how hot he looked. It was really distracting when Bilbo was trying to learn from the dwarf._

_The dwarf was noticing him too, Bilbo was sure of it. At times when he would be washing, he would feel the dwarf’s gaze on his back. When Bilbo would look back, Thorin would turn away._

_There was something that the dwarf could guess. He would often frown at Bilbo as if trying to solve a puzzle. If it was any other hobbit, Bilbo would just demand an answer._

_But this was Thorin._

_Thorin was...well, Thorin._

_Sighing, Bilbo blocked another of Thorin’s attacks. But he missed the dwarf’s legs, and the very next moment, he was on his back, with Thorin looming over him._

“ _Another advice, Master Baggins,” growled Thorin, “Be aware of every part of your body. Use whatever you can for your advantage.”_

_Bilbo nodded, but his eyes continued to drop at Thorin’s lips. He should not be thinking about it. At all. Thorin was a dwarf. He was a hobbit. He was a king. Bilbo was a Baggins. They were in no way equal._

_But his head had all sort of different ideas._

“ _Master Baggins?”_

_Bilbo whimpered, his eyes falling back on the dwarf’s eyes._

_Something softened there. Something changed._

“ _Bilbo.”_

_His throat dried up. His heart began to beat faster. Thorin slowly reached out and put his sword on the ground. He then pulled Bilbo’s sword and put it away. Bilbo was sure he was going to tell him to stand up or perhaps get read-_

“ _May I kiss you?”_

_The words left him, his mind a room of jumbled thoughts. With whatever energy he could muster, Bilbo nodded. Thorin was heavy on Bilbo, but he could not bring himself to care as Thorin leaned in._

_Everything else stopped when Thorin pressed his lips to Bilbo’s._

* * *

Howls took over the plains. The sleigh of Radagast the Brown ran across the fields, chasing the wargs and orcs away.

Watching them run away, Gandalf commanded, “Come on!”

Bilbo immediately scurried after the old Grey Wizard. The Company ran the other way around as Radagast diverted the orcs and wargs’ attention.

Halfway across, Thorin took over and lead them away, but he came to a halt as Radagast crossed them. They were running in circles, or the world was playing with them.

“Stay together!” barked Gandalf, and the Dwarrows and one Hobbit took away again.

But the next turn they took, Ori almost ran into the view of the wargs. Thorin was able to catch him by the scruff of his neck to pull him back.

Once Radagast had run them off, Gandalf pushed everyone to run. Thorin questioned Gandalf and Bilbo paid them no heed before taking after the dwarrows.

They merely managed to hide at the base of rock as Radagast once again pulled them close to the Company. Bilbo couldn’t help but wonder if the brown wizard was loonier than Gandalf. He for some reason kept bringing the wargs to their tails.

A low growl was heard from above, and Bilbo’s heart stopped. Thorin turned to Kili and nodded discreetly.

Bilbo had a moment to take in everything before Kili pulled out an arrow and shot the warg. Bilbo’s heart stopped for a moment as the warg and the orc fell down.

The warg screeched. The Orc snarled and charged at them.

Up till then, Bilbo was content with running around and hiding behind the bigger dwarves. As Dwalin charged towards the orc, Bilbo pulled out the new Elvish blade he had been granted and charged at the orc himself.

He had never fought with Dwalin before, but he could see the similarities between him and Thorin. It did not take Bilbo long to fall into a rhythm.

Dwalin gave him a confused look as he pulled back, letting Bifur take over. Bilbo did not have the energy to actually explain the looks or his very dwarfish way of fighting. He did not have to either as Gandalf could see the orcs and wargs coming over to them.

With a last thrush at the orc, Bilbo took off after the dwarrows. The fight was coming to them, and they would not be able to defeat the orcs themselves. They would need help.

If only Thorin was a bit more diplomatic, maybe they could have asked Lord Elrond for help.

But one thing that Bilbo knew, was that no good came out of dwelling on what-ifs, so he bolted. His feet, no matter how leathery, were hurting. The sword was heavy on his hand, so Bilbo put it back in his scabbard and pulled out his crossbow from behind him.

Better work on his good qualities then.

For as far as he could see now, there was an open sky and no place to hide. The trees were far and few in between, and the orcs were coming from every side.

He wasted no time in firing after them. The dwarves were shouting for him at every turn, and Bilbo followed too. But if he could pull down a few orcs with him, nothing better than that.

Gandalf was leading them randomly, as if even he had no idea where to go. Bilbo did not blame him- this was open land. Where could one exactly hide?

“There’s more coming!”

Bilbo pushed more arrows into his bow and began to shoot the orcs as they circled them.

“Kili!” Thorin shouted, “Bilbo! Shoot them!”

Bilbo did not need to be told twice. He let his hands and arms do the work. Foolish orcs, they liked to stall.

A woosh came close to his own, and Bilbo cried out in pain.

The dwarrows closest to him turned to him in alarm. Bilbo had no time. He pulled out the arrow shot by one of the orcs- Bilbo couldn’t place which one of the orcs was it- and threw it on the ground. He loaded his crossbow and began to shoot again when Fili’s voice rang in the air.

“We’re surrounded!”

Bilbo immediately scurried closer to Thorin. The older dwarf had his elvish sword and his axe in the hand, looking at the orcs. Bilbo could not even tease his husband for that.

“Where’s Gandalf?”

“He’s abandoned us!”

Bilbo did not believe that. Ori hit one of the orcs with his slingshot, but it was to no avail. Bilbo immediately hit it with an arrow and sent a smile to Ori.

If they were to die, they could die knowing that everyone had each other’s backs.

“Hold Your Ground!”

Bilbo did not need to be told twice. He loaded his crossbow, to shoot another when Gandalf’s voice came like a soothing balm.

“This way, you fools!”

Thorin turned and immediately ordered everyone to follow Gandalf between the two stones. Bilbo allowed the dwarrows to run, as he and Kili held their ground by shooting any orc or warg tried to come closer. Very few came as close to Thorin, and he easily sliced through the overgrown animals.

“Kili! Bilbo! Come on now!”

The two shared a quick glance. Bilbo gestured Kili to leave, but the dwarf had clearly inherited his Uncle’s stubbornness.

“Kili! Bilbo! NOW!”

With one last arrow from each of them, the two broke out into the run and jumped into the cave that Gandalf had very conveniently found for them.

Just as Thorin landed on the ground, Bilbo heard a horn into the field. From where they stood, they could see nothing. But the sound of fighting was hard to miss. The orcs were yelling, and everyone was looking up in confusion when an orc fell through the gap.

Everyone immediately scurried away, their weapons ready. The orc lay on its back, and nobody moved for a moment. Gandalf poked it with his staff before Thorin pulled out the arrow which had killed the orc.

“Elves.”

Bilbo’s shoulder slumped in relief. If the elves were there, the orcs would either all be killed or soon flee. Despite Thorin’s disgust, Bilbo could not bring himself to care.

Dwalin's voice boomed into the cave, “I cannot see where the pathway leads. Do we follow it or not?”

“Follow it of course!” went Bofur’s scared reply and the dwarrows all hummed in unison. Everyone began to follow Dwalin when Gandalf muttered, “I think that would be wise.”

Bilbo frowned at the wizard. He had known Gandalf since his mother introduced them on a Midsummer’s Eve in his early childhood. The wizard always made sure to get his words heard and his advice followed. Everything that happened was in accordance to how he wanted to. If he said that Belladonna Took would have an adventure with the elves, then she would.

Whatever could he be up to now?

Before Bilbo could dwell on the question, a pain shot up his leg. He looked down to see the wound left behind by the arrow.

Gandalf looked concerned, and was about to shout when Bilbo pulled a finger on his lips and gestured towards the dwarrows. Gandalf looked unconvinced, but nodded nevertheless.

Bilbo limped after the dwarrows, hissing in pain. But he could stop the feeling. The feeling of...

“Gandalf? Where are we?”

Gandalf instead of answering, asked, “You can feel it?”

“Yes!” bilbo looked back at the wizard, “It feels like, well, like magic.”

“That’s exactly what it is,” Gandalf said with one of his smiles.

Before Bilbo could question further, Gloin shouted about light forward. With another frown directed at the wizard, Bilbo limped ahead. When his eyes finally landed on the sight in front of him, Bilbo gasped. His eyes widened and he felt himself go speechless.

The valley was filled with Elvish houses, below the beautiful landscape of waterfalls and yellow-green trees. Far different from the green hills of Shire, yet still as homely as Bilbo could hope for. The waterfalls and the rivulets took away Bilbo’s breath, and finally, his mother’s stories had a real setting.

“The Valley of Imladris,” said Gandalf, “In the common tongue, it’s known by another name.”

“Rivendell.”

Bilbo let peace wash over him as Gandalf continued, “Here lies the Last Homely House East of the Sea.”

His wonder and excitement was ruined, however, when Thorin climbed up to face Gandalf. “This was your plan all along,” he growled, “to seek refuge with our enemy.”

“You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield,” declared Gandalf, and Bilbo couldn’t help but sigh, “The only ill will to be found in this valley is that which you bring upon yourself.”

Bilbo let himself glare at the king dwarf. But his eyes were fixed on Gandalf. “You think the Elves will give our quest their blessing? They will try and stop us.”

“Of course they will,” said Gandalf, “But we have questions that need to be answered. And an injured member that needs help.”

Bilbo gaped as everyone turned to look at each other, before Fili’s eyes landed on Bilbo. “Mr Boggins!”

Thorin immediately looked at him, and Bilbo could only shake his head. But the truth was that he was hurt, and he wouldn’t say no to being treated in an Elvish home.

“Do not fret. Bilbo will be fine,” said Gandalf kindly, before returning his stony expression, “However, the task in front of us is another matter. If we are to be successful, this will need to be handled with tact. And respect. And no small degree of charm. Which is why you’ll leave all the talking to me.”

Thorin had no words to say for that, so here merely turned around and barked something in Khudzul. Everyone grunted, but turned to Gandalf for directions. The wizard nodded and walked forward. Bilbo rolled his eyes and decided to follow when two young dwarves pulled his arms into their own.

“Wh-what?” spluttered Bilbo as Fili and Kili walked with him.

“Why did you tell us you were injured?” demanded Fili.

“It’s not important boys,” said Bilbo,

Kili gasped. “Not important? Mr Boggins, you are precious Hobbit!”

“Of course it’s important!” said Fili, “We are gonna take care of you! Nothing will happen to you.”

Bilbo had to huff a laughter, “We are in Elves’ valley, where all is healed.”

Fili turned up his nose, but Kili frowned.

“If the elves try anything, we will sack them.”

Bilbo just shook his head at Fili’s antics. He instead decided to focus on the wonderful architecture as dwarvish princes hurled him and amused themselves.

When they finally came to the stairs, everyone surrounded him. An elf descended down the stairs and greeted Gandalf. The dwarves immediately began to behave like children. He heard Thorin mutter, ‘stay sharp’ to Dwalin.

As Gandalf and the elf began to converse in Sindarin, Bilbo had a feeling that Gandalf was purposefully trying to irk the dwarrows.

“I must speak with Lord Elrond.”

“My Lord Elrond is not here.”

“Not here? Where is he?”

As if in answer, a horn sounded and the dwarves cluttered around Bilbo as if the elves were going to steal him. He wanted to remind them that he had been the one fighting the orcs with Kili, but it would clearly be of no use.

The elves began to circle the dwarrows, and Bilbo could feel the animosity from both sides. He never really understood this fight, but what did he know of the world of big folks?

“Gandalf.”

Bilbo looked at the owner of the voice. Ah, Lord Elrond.

He was as much regal as Belladonna Took’s stories and Bilbo found himself cloud nine. Now only if these dwarrows would let him breathe.

The elf and the wizard continued their conversation in elvish. When they switched to Westron, Lord Elrond behaved perfectly with Thorin.

“Welcome, Thorin, son of Thrain.”

But Thorin, being Thorin, could not do the same. “I do not believe we have met.”

Lord Elrond still tried to make up, “You have your grandfather’s bearing. I knew Thror when he ruled Under the Mountain.”

“Indeed?” Thorin said, “He made no mention of you.”

Bilbo wanted to sack the dwarf.

Lord Elrond was obviously irritated, but being the elf he was he said nothing. Instead, he spoke something in Elvish. Gloin immediately raised his axe. It wasn’t until Gandalf said, “He’s offering you food,” that the dwarves finally calmed down.

Bilbo chuckled at the way dwarves behaved at the mention of food. His dwarrows were truly something else.

He was about to walk on when darkness took over him.

The last he remembered before falling was the shout of his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I did that.  
> See you all next week!


	6. Stand by You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief stay in Rivendell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yaaay! Another update! Warning, we have some angst here. Please don't hate me, I love you all.  
> UwU  
> UPDATE: THANK YOU FOR MORE THAN 150 KUDOS, MORE THAN 30 BOOKMARKS, SO MANY DAM COMMENTS AND 1500 HITS! I LOVE YOU GUYS!

Consciousness came slowly to Bilbo. He was vaguely aware of someone chanting around him. If he had to guess, he would say it was Elvish. But as it was, he was far too tired, and thus allowed the speech to lull him back to sleep.

When he next woke up, Bilbo’s eyes landed on beautiful archways and white ceiling. It was also far too up. This was not his Hobbit Hole at all.

“Ah, Mr Baggins. It is good to see you in the world of the living.”

Bilbo had to blink once, then twice, then again. But his eyes were not betraying him There stood Lord Elrond, dressed in fine silken robes, smiling at him.

Bilbo tried to sit up but was immediately pushed down by the elf. “Rest. You do not need to worry. The wound has been healed, but it will take you a few days before you are well enough to go out again.”

“How long?” Bilbo managed to squeak. His throat was dry.

Lord Elrond reached for a pitcher and helped Bilbo drink. He was too tired to actually register the fact that LORD ELROND helped him DRINK WATER.

He would freak over later.

“Just a day,” Lord Elrond assured him, “Your fellow friends have been in and out. Especially young Prince Fili.”

Bilbo nodded. Had Thorin visited him?

“Are they still here?”

The elf shook his head, “But I will let them know at breakfast that you are awake. Meanwhile, please rest.”

Bilbo nodded, not knowing what else he could say. Lord Elrond gave him one last smile before leaving. Another elf came in soon after, with a tray of food. Despite himself, Bilbo had to laugh.

The dwarrows would be rioting on the lack of meat.

Bilbo tucked in once the elf helped him sit up. The salad was delicious, better than his pantry food. There was honey there, and Bilbo could taste almond in the lettuce. He would ask for the recipe before they left.

Bilbo looked down at his leg. He did not understand why an arrow would hurt him so much. Making him faint? Now that was not done.

Shuddering at the memory, Bilbo turned his attention back to the food. His leg felt fine. He would soon be able to look around Rivendell.

“Bilbo!”

Huffed at the loud noise, Bilbo turned his attention to the door. Immediately, Kili, Fili, Bofur and Ori were beside him. Dori, Balin and Gloin followed. But that was about it.

There was no one else who had come to visit Bilbo.

“I am fine,” said Bilbo, but he truly did not feel it. Somehow, he knew Thorin would not come to visit him in the company of all dwarrows, but he was still hoping.

“I am sorry, Bilbo,” said Fili, his head bowed, “I should have been more aware.”

“Oh shush!” Bilbo shook his head, “Fili, you were fighting. People get injured.”

“Aye!” Balin said cheerfully, “And our dear burglar handled himself quite well, wouldn’t you agree, laddie?”

Every dwarf present nodded.

“We were all so worried,” Kili said eagerly, “Falling down so suddenly. Truly, Bilbo, not even Oin knew what to do. And...then Lord Elrond came and swooped you away.”

Bilbo frowned at the shift in Kili’s tone and looked at Balin shaking his head. Whatever it was that the young prince wanted to say was lost as they then began to complain about the food.

He allowed himself to chuckle, but every once in a while his eyes wandered to the door. The only one who came was an Elf healer to check up on Bilbo.

The dwarrows soon left, and Bilbo was left alone. The Elf healer urged him to sleep, but it was hard for Bilbo to do so. His chest felt heavy, and truly nothing could spark joy in his heart.

He ate his lunch wordlessly and gave curt answers. Lord Elrond again visited him and extended to him the offer of staying back to get better, but Bilbo immediately shot the idea down. Even if his foolish husband had no qualms about seeing him, Bilbo was no child. He would perhaps not talk to Thorin for a few days and make his displeasure very clear, but he was not going to abandon the quest completely.

The Elf looked unhappy but nodded nevertheless. Taking his chance, Bilbo asked if he could see Rivendell. Lord Elrond just smiled and said not yet.

* * *

_When Bilbo woke up the next day, he was unsure where he was. Blinking, he could vaguely make out that he was in his room. But he felt extremely light as if he was no more than a cloud or a ball of cotton._

_The next time he blinked, Bilbo found he was in the kitchen. His parents were frowning at him, clearly concerned, but the boy himself did not care._

“ _Bilbo, would you be a dear and bring out a cheese block?”_

_Bilbo hummed and allowed his legs to carry him to the pantry. Picking up a cheese block, Bilbo went back to the kitchen._

_His father asked him something, and Bilbo was pretty sure he answered him back. But everything was background noise at that point. Bilbo was floating. He was not on earth- he was far up with the clouds, flying with his fabled fairy grandmother._

“ _Do you have those lessons with Mister Oakenshield today as well?”_

_Oakenshield. Thorin._

_Bilbo had kissed Thorin._

_Unable to stop the giggle, Bilbo shook his head, “No, Dad. Thorin has asked me to come to the forge.”_

_Bungo Baggins raised his eyebrow at the use of ‘Thorin’. But Belladonna shook her head, throwing a glare at her husband before smiling sweetly at her son._

“ _Would you like to take second breakfast for him, then?”_

_Thorin was not particularly fond of waiting as much as the Hobbits, but Bilbo nodded._

_It was like that that Bilbo ran down to the Shire forge, a basket full of sandwiches and cakes swinging in his arms. He knew not why Thorin had asked him to come to the forge, but Bilbo was not particularly interested in knowing why._

_He was content as he was._

_The forge was open, and Bilbo did not bother to knock before entering. He placed down the basket on the stall and shouted, “Thooooriiin!”_

_Thorin stepped out the very next moment and Bilbo grinned. But the mirth faded when he realized that Thorin was not dressed up in his working clothes. Instead, he was wearing a dark blue tunic that he wore on Thain’s birthday. His hair was braided and he looked rather- well, clean._

“ _Going somewhere?” asked Bilbo._

_Thorin sighed, “Something like that. Will you come in?”_

_He did not wait for a reply. Curious, Bilbo followed Thorin inside. Instead of leading him to his workspace, Thorin went to a different corner. Bilbo could see that Thorin picked up something wooden, but he was not exactly sure what it was._

_When Thorin turned around, Bilbo gasped. In his hands was a wooden crossbow._

“ _I heard that it was your birthday soon,” said Thorin, not meeting Bilbo’s eyes, “Your interest in swordsmanship is good, but it is clear that your archery skills are finer. I believe this would suit your needs?”_

_Bilbo gaped at the dwarf. First the sword, now the crossbow. Bilbo was not sure what exactly he could say._

“ _In the Shire, we give presents to everyone else, you know,” he babbled, “Not receive them.”_

_Thorin finally looked at the Hobbit and smiled. Bilbo melted as soon as the dwarf's face lit up._

“ _Be as it may,” said Thorin, “I am a dwarf, and we give presents. Anyways, I won’t be able to attend your birthday party so why not gift you something now?”_

_It was as if someone had doused Bilbo in a cold river._

“ _You’re leaving?” Bilbo did not like how his voice came out in a whimper._

_Thorin looked down, placing the crossbow behind him, “I was never meant to stay this long. It would take me days to reach home. My people need me for the winter.”_

_With a sigh, Thorin picked up the crossbow and handed it over to Bilbo. But Bilbo continued to stare at Thorin. “Will you be coming back next spring?”_

“ _Perhaps,” whispered Thorin, “The future is uncertain.”_

“ _Do you regret that we kissed yesterday?”_

_Thorin sighed, “I do not not regret it.”_

_Bilbo made a displeased sound, “What does that even mean?”_

_In the next instance, Thorin was cradling Bilbo’s face. The Hobbit could feel tears prickling at the edge of his eyes._

“ _It...it is very complicated, Bilbo.”_

“ _I am not a child, Thorin!”_

_Thorin smiled sadly, “I have realized that. But...Bilbo, I am afraid this must be goodbye.”_

_Before Bilbo could let out another word, Thorin had pulled Bilbo in for a small kiss. He was reluctant to part, but Thorin had soon pulled away._

_Bilbo could vaguely hear the retreating footsteps and the closing of the door behind him. In the emptiness of the forge, Bilbo finally let his tears spill._

* * *

“I had told Gandalf that you would soon be hopping out, injured leg be damned. But Tharkun had immense trust in you.”

Bilbo huffed out a laugh. Three days inside the wonderful Elvish healing rooms and Bilbo was losing it. He could easily walk small distance now and Rivendell was so breathtakingly beautiful. But the window only did as much justice and the dwarrows looked like Bilbo had gone mad when he expressed his desire to look around.

That was why he was sneaking out, or rather, hopping out of his healing rooms late at night under the nose of his healers. He had clearly overestimated his capacity, for his bandaged leg started hurting as soon as he was out of the door.

When he had leaned on a pillar to catch his breath, he had not expected to hear Thorin’s voice.

Bilbo looked to his right, trying to glare at his husband. Thorin was leaning over one the statues, looking far too calm in the Elvish surroundings.

“I was hoping he was right,” Thorin smiled, walking over to Bilbo, “But of course, one cannot put Bilbo Baggins in an Elvish place and expect him to sit around, can they?”

Bilbo dropped his glare shook with laughter as Thorin cupper his face. Bilbo looked up, smiling, as Thorin sighed. “You worried me, _ghivashel._ ”

“Yet you did not come to visit!” quipped Bilbo. Thorin looked pained, but Bilbo refused to back down, “Three days, I have been inside those halls, and while the architecture is beautiful, I want to see the gardens! Furthermore, you dwarrows are the worst sort of Company if one wishes to truly-”

Whatever Bilbo was going to say was cut down as Thorin pulled him into a kiss. All his complaints and anger melted as Thorin pulled him close. Bilbo did not care if someone saw him then and there. He wrapped his arms around the dwarf’s neck and allowed himself to lean on the chest as Thorin devoured his mouth.

By the time he finally pulled back, Bilbo was breathless. “Oh, how I missed you.”

Thorin smiled at Bilbo’s admittance. “And I, you. These days have been nothing short of torture.”

Bilbo snorted, “Is that why you have been torturing poor Fili and Kili at every moment? Now, don’t give me that look. I see how you run them to the ground.”

Thorin was trying to glare at Bilbo but gave up halfway. “They need to learn.”

“They are children,” insisted Bilbo, “and they have been doing quite fine.”

“They sent you into a Troll’s camp.”

“And you shouted at me for that.”

Thorin’s lips pressed into a thin line and a frown appeared on his face. But Bilbo was having none of that. He pulled the dwarf closer and kissed his head, making the frown disappear immediately.

“Now,” Bilbo said, “What are you doing here? Not that I am complaining at all.”

“I came to see you,” rumbled Thorin, “And perhaps, sneak you away.”

Bilbo huffed, “Oh, are we telling the dwarrows how we are now?”

Thorin gave him an unimpressed look, “They are on the other side of this place. The place I had in mind will be far away from those loud idiots.”

“And if somebody spots us?”

“That did not worry you while you were devouring me, Ghivashel.”

“Oh shush! You know what.”

“Then they will keep their mouth shut.”

Bilbo couldn’t help but smile as Thorin moved his arm around his own neck and nestled Bilbo on his side. Grasping firmly on his waist, Thorin walked slowly and allowed Bilbo to hop on his good leg.

The two walked in silence as Thorin lead him through mazes. It would all be very beautiful in the day, but the moonlight did something entirely different to the beauty to of Rivendell.

Bilbo gasped when Thorin finally stopped. In front of him stood a garden bigger than anything Bilbo had ever seen. Bluebells, Daffodils, Roses- whatever flower he could remember, it was all there. In the centre stood a tall tree, it’s shade covering a lot of benches.

Thorin led Bilbo to one of the benches and sat Bilbo down, before settling down beside him.

“This,” Bilbo sighed, “Oh Thorin, this is beautiful.”

From where they sat, the valley and waterfalls were glistening in the moonlight. Somewhere far away, the dwarrows were laughing and the elves were singing.

“Hmmm.”

“Oh, Thorin!” Bilbo lightly swatted his husband, “Come on, even you can appreciate this beauty!”

“I prefer mountains,” was Thorin’s answer.

Bilbo huffed and turned to look back at the waterfalls. Something was calming about the view- the air, the smell, the sight- all of it.

A weight dropped on his legs. Bilbo slowly looked down to see Thorin’s head on his laps, his blue eyes fixed on Bilbo.

“What are you doing?” asked Bilbo, his breath hitching a bit.

In response, Thorin turned and buried his head into Bilbo’s stomach. Unable to stop the giggle, Bilbo whimpered, “Thoriiiin! Get off, you big oaf! You know it tickles!”

Thorin turned back up, staring at Bilbo, “I am sleepy.”

Snorting, Bilbo ran his hands through Thorin’s hair, “That’s all right. Don’t tickle me.”

Thorin clearly took it as a challenge. The next moment, Bilbo was squirming in his seat as Thorin calmly ran his fingers through his stomach, his arms and everywhere he could get his hands.

“Thorin! STOP! Oh dear, oh, hehe, Thorin, I will kill you! Ughh! Thorin!”

* * *

The next morning, the Elf Healer finally allowed Bilbo to leave his quarters. Bilbo was ready to jump up and down like a fauntling but controlled himself as the Elf carried him to the dining room for lunch. He insisted that he could walk, but his feet hurt from all the hopping the night before and was thus refrained from making any more comment as he was carried.

The dwarrows let out a loud cheer as soon as Bilbo entered, and the Hobbit found himself getting red under the attention. He was placed between Balin and a pillar, so he was properly secured.

Lord Elrond soon entered, followed by Gandalf and Thorin. As soon as Thorin’s eyes met Bilbo’s, a blush overtook his neck and cheeks. Thorin just smiled smugly before nodding in his direction and joining Lord Elrond for lunch at the other table.

Bilbo took deep breaths to calm himself down, before finally looking up. It was then that he noticed Balin looking curiously at him.

“How have you been?” Bilbo asked, hoping to get away from Balin’s scrutinizing gaze.

Balin grinned, “Well enough, laddie. I...well, I am not particularly fond of these people either, but you must do with what you have.”

At least he wasn’t referring to the Elves as ‘tree-shaggers’.

“How’s that leg?” asked Balin kindly.

Bilbo wiggled his legs before nodding, “Good enough. I was able to hop around a bit.”

Balin nodded, “Aye, that is very important.”

The two sat in comfortable silence as the Elves served them. Thankfully, there was some meat in the meal and the dwarrows were not constantly grumbling.

“You know,” Balin suddenly spoke up, “Thorin was very worried when you fell down.”

Bilbo stopped the fork midway and stared at Balin, “Hm?”

Taking the surprised hum as encouragement, Balin continued, “I believe he was worried that if you had fallen ill perhaps a few minutes before, you could have fallen off the bridge.”

Bilbo couldn’t help but snort. Yes, of course, Thorin would be worried about something like that.

“He worries about small things like that,” said Balin, mirroring Bilbo’s own thoughts, “He carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. He is a formidable ruler, no doubt, but sometimes I truly worry for the lad. Nobody should be carrying that much.”

Unable to help himself, Bilbo turned to look at Thorin. He was busy conversing with Lord Elrond, and Bilbo could see exactly what Balin was talking about. “Yes, of course.”

“Hmm,” Bilbo blinked as Balin frowned at the Hobbit, “You know, Bilbo, Thorin does not trust easily. It’s a good thing he knew you from before. Were you two particularly close while Thorin stayed in the Shire?”

Gaping, Bilbo said, “Uh, well, my father knew him well. He, um, was involved with the Thain in the whole trading business. And then, the Thains are Tooks, and as I told you I am part Took, so we have had our interactions.”

Balin looked at him, clearly asking him to go further. Breathing heavily, Bilbo continued, “I, uh, I might have commissioned him to make me a few things.”

“Ah yes!” Balin said with a smile, “Your sword and crossbow, isn’t it? They looked of dwarven make.”

Bilbo could only nod. Something shifted in Balin’s expression, and Bilbo felt his heart beat faster.

“You know, Bilbo,” Balin said gravely, “I have seen Thorin grow up. I care about him quite a lot. He has lost so much. I only wish he was happy.”

“Of course,” said Bilbo, “Anybody who has gone through what Master Oakenshield has gone through- of course, Balin. They deserve all the happiness.”

Balin nodded. “Aye. I think, perhaps, he will find some sort of happiness on this quest.”

Turning to look at Thorin, Bilbo sighed, “I really hope so, Balin. I really do.”

Balin hummed, diverting bilbo’s attention back to him. He then changed the topic to food, and Bilbo found himself talking about the different cuisine and how he was enjoying the stay. The lunch soon came to an end, and everyone rushed out to sit in the open. Bilbo followed the other, tired of being cooped up into his rooms.

Thorin, too, followed his Company. He had no other engagements and found himself enjoying the wrestling match that had begun between Dwalin and Fili. It was clear that the Crown prince was losing, but he had to admit that the boy was trying.

His eyes kept darting to Bilbo, was resting beside Bofur and Ori, laughing with them. For some reason, his stomach did a flip every time that the three burst out laughing. A part of him hoped it was him making his husband laugh, but the other relished at the sound of Bilbo’s laugh.

“Having fun, Thorin?”

Gloin settled down beside Thorin, watching the match with interest, “My bet is on Dwalin.”

Unable to help himself, Thorin snorted, “Even a blind Dwarf can tell that Dwalin is winning, cousin.”

Gloin nodded, “Aye. But Fili is growing up into a fine young lad. Much like my own Gimli. Oh, he beat me in a wrestling match before we came here! Did you know that?”

Thorin, of course, knew that. Gloin had been gloating about his son’s victory only say, for the past several months.

“You might have mentioned it.”

Gloin either did not listen to the sarcastic tone or ignored it completely, “Aye, my dear boy. He wanted to come, but I wouldn’t allow. Of course, my darling Rili helped. She always does.”

Thorin had to bite back a groan. While he did enjoy listening about her cousin-in-law, one could only hear a dwarrowdam being praised so much. Rili was a kind dwarf, yes, and strong too, but Gloin’s praises made her into a goddess.

“You know, Thorin, when I first met Rili, I was not very fond of her.”

That had Thorin pause. Gloin hardly talked about the time before he was unimaginably in love with his wife. Unable to help himself, Thorin frowned, “Truly?”

Gloin chuckled, “Aye. She was headstrong. Too headstrong for me. I thought of her more as a contender than as a friend, or even potential spouse.”

Thorin turned to Gloin with interest. “What happened?”

“Ah, what always happens,” Gloin said in a wistful tone, “We were forced to be in the same space. After many days of throwing coins at each other, we finally understood each other’s crafts. She was generous and cared for all, while I worried about the money. Once we got talking, well, it wasn’t that hard to like her, you know?”

Thorin nodded understandingly. He knew of a certain someone who got in his nerves enough.

Gloin continued, “When I first attempted to court her, she hit me with an anvil! Could you believe that? An anvil! Huh! But then, she too understood me, and agreed when realized I wasn’t jesting.”

Thorin let out a chuckle.

“It is often hard to see wonderful things when they are right in front of you,” said Gloin, “But with time, they get clearer. You might be staring at something for ages, thinking it worthless, but then, one day, it just becomes as beautiful and precious as the Arkenstone.”

Unable to help himself, Thorin looked at Bilbo. He was looking at the wrestling match, his nose scrunched up, but still laughing at the poor attempts that Fili made to win.

Dwalin pushed Fili on the ground, and a cheer took over the place. Thorin saw Oin throw a pouch at Gloin, who caught it with a smile. There was something different in the way he clapped Thorin on the back and smiled at him, but Thorin merely shook his head and stood up, ready to get working for the rest of the day.

* * *

_Lady Dis was a perceptive Dwarrowdam. She knew when things were going astray, or when Kili found a new obsession. So she was well aware of the fact that while her brother’s journey had been successful, there was something that was bothering him. He refused to eat, pushing himself to work to the brink of exhaustion._

_That was how Dis found herself carrying a platter of Dinner for Thorin. He was hunched over his desk, scribbling away. Taking in a deep breath, Dis put a hand on Thorin’s shoulder._

“ _Nadad?”_

_Thorin paused but gave no other inclination._

“ _You haven’t eaten,” pressed Dis, coming in front, “anything since morning.”_

“ _I am fine,” said Thorin, his voice heavy._

“ _You most certainly are not,” said Dis firmly, “Come on nadad, do not do this. What bothers you?”_

_Thorin let out a loud sigh. He dropped his pen and leaned back his chair, still not looking at Dis._

“ _I...it’s hard, Dis.”_

_Dis pushed the scrolls and paper from the table. She put down the platter and pulled another chair, seating herself beside her brother. “What is it?”_

_For the longest moment, Thorin said nothing. He continued to stare at the blank wall in front of him before mumbling something out._

“ _What was that?”_

_Thorin sighed, bowing his head. “I met my One, Dis.”_

_Unable to help herself, Dis jumped up, “Your One? Mahal, Nadad! You scared me! I thought someone had hurt you! Oh, this is the most joyful occasion and you sit here with your head bowed? Who is the dwarrowdam? We must approach her immediately and-”_

_But Thorin continued to look down. Dis paused, looking at her brother’s brooding expression._

“ _Thorin?”_

_Her brother said nothing. Dis sat down, looking at Thorin in concern, “What is it? Why is finding your One such a sad thing, nadad?”_

_Thorin’s silence answered her. Dread settled in her stomach. “It’s not a dwarrowdam, is it?”_

_Sighing, Thorin said, “No, it is not.”_

“ _Who is it?” she pressed, but then immediately put her hand up, “No, don’t tell me. If I don’t know a secret, I cannot blurt it out.”_

_Thorin nodded. The two sat in silence, each wondering about the revelation before Thorin let out a loud sigh.“Why must Mahal punish me this way, Dis? Have I failed him?”_

“ _Thorin!” Dis shook her head, “Your One is not a punishment. Vili was low born, would you consider him a punishment for me?”_

“ _Of course not!”_

“ _Then neither is your One, no matter whoever they are,” said Dis, “You deserve the happiness, nadad.”_

_She lay her hand over his, and he tightly held her hand. “But this is not one that I can have now, can I?”_

_The cogs in Dis’ head was turning. “Whyever not?”_

“ _Dis...”_

“ _They are not from here,” Dis said, “You clearly met them during your journey. The people will not know unless you tell them.”_

“ _You will have me hide?”_

“ _No, not hide, but seek out your happiness. Do not care what anyone thinks or says, and that includes me” Sighing, Dis pressed her forehead to her brother’s. Thorin allowed himself to breathe as Dis said, “I am merely suggesting an idea, nadad. In the end, this is your decision. I only want you to be happy.”_

* * *

"What exactly did Balin mean by that, you think?”

Thorin shrugged, “Balin might be my cousin, but understanding him is very hard. He might be talking about Erebor, or something else entirely.”

Bilbo shuddered, “I knew your plan was foolish. You can hardly control yourself around me. I bet they know about us.”

Thorin snorted, but in his heart he wondered if Bilbo was right. “They cannot know about us, _Kurdel_. You do not wear my bead, and nobody can guess.”

“You don’t give enough credit to them,” grunted Bilbo. His leg had gotten much better, and now he was able to climb the stairs well enough. But the pain was still there and Bilbo really doubted that it would ever go away.

Thorin sighed, before helping Bilbo stand up on the balcony. Thorin had been informing Bilbo of the reading of the map the night before, when the moon was right and how they had to reach the mountain by Durin’s Day. They had plenty of time, and were planning how to go about when Bilbo brought up the conversation he had had with Balin a few days before.

Thorin himself could remember what Gloin had said. It was weird, for the lack of better words, but hardly worth mentioning. Shaking his head, Thorin stood beside his husband, letting the calm atmosphere of Rivendell calm him down. Even though he did not particularly like the Elvish residence, he could not ignore that it was a beautiful and calming place.

“Of course I was going to tell you,” they heard Gandalf’s voice, “I was waiting for this very chance. And really, I think you can trust that I know what I am doing.”

Bilbo looked curiously at the wizard and the Elvish Lord speak.

“Do you?” came Elrond’s question, “That dragon has slept for sixty years. What will happen if your plan should fail if you wake that beast?”

With a sigh, Bilbo realized they were talking about their quest. Bilbo stole a glance at Thorin, who had again put on his neutral brooding expression.

“What if we succeed? If the Dwarves take back the mountain our defences in the east will be strengthened.”

“It is a dangerous move, Gandalf.”

“It is also dangerous to do nothing. Oh, come, the throne of Erebor is Thorin’s birthright. What is it that you fear?”

“Have you forgotten?” Elrond said, and Thorin’s knuckles turned white, “A strain of madness runs deep in that family. His grandfather lost his mind, his father succumbed to the same sickness. Can you swear Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall?”

Bilbo watched as Thorin took those words to heart. He laid a hand over Thorin’s, but Thorin did not respond. Bilbo knew of his husband’s fears and truly, at that moment, Bilbo wished that Lord Elrond would quiet down.

“Gandalf, these decisions do not rest with us alone.” he continued, “It is not up to you or me to redraw the map of Middle Earth.”

“With or without our help, these dwarves will reclaim their mountain.”

Bilbo did not hear any further of the conversation as Thorin began to lead him away.

“Thorin...you do not need to listen to him.”

Thorin did not say anything but merely lead Bilbo back. Sighing, Bilbo allowed himself to give him as much physical comfort as possible. But Thorin had closed off, unreceptive to anything Bilbo did.

As soon as Thorin brought Bilbo to the dwarrows, they all began to shout but were immediately silenced by Thorin’s own shout.

“Pack up your bags,” he said, “and wrap Mister Baggins’ wound properly properly. We leave at once.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.....thoughts?


	7. Try to be my Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Company of Thorin Oakenshield leaves Rivendell and venture into the Misty mountains  
> Trigger Warning for this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say I hate Act II? I have perfect beginnings and ends for all my stories, and I have many, but as soon as it comes to Act II snap! I am dead. This chapter gave me grief, and I hate to tell y'all that the next two chapters, which will mark the end of Part I, has not been written either. Which is really funny, cause I have the last five chapters of this story written down. These bi-weekly updates are turning weekly, and I am really sorry y'all. 
> 
> But on a better note, this is the last week of my Summer Semester! YAAAY! So, as a celebration of sorts, I have been thinking of writing One-shots. Now, I have many ideas, but I would like all of you to tell me if you want something to be read- a trope, a pairing, something cute, something nasty- anything. As long as I am comfortable with it, it is yours!
> 
> Okay, enough of that. I have TW for this chapter, and to avoid spoilers, check the endnotes for details! Also, ANGST!

The Company of Thorin Oakenshield left at the first light, sneaking around the Elves and getting out of the beautiful valley of Imraldis. Bilbo could walk well enough, but his injury still hurt. It was for that reason that he was followed by Bofur, who would hold Bilbo every time he would lose his footing.

Bilbo dared to look back at the valley one last time. It was breathtakingly beautiful. If given the chance to sit back and just enjoy the Elvish valley, he would do it. Those last few nights he and Thorin had sneaked around in the moonlit candles, avoiding elves and dwarrows alike and giggling like small faunts warmed Bilbo’s heart considerably.

Far different from the dwarf that had sneaked around with him, Thorin had completely closed off, talking only to Balin who lead the group. It was truly surprising, what words could do. As much as Bilbo looked up to Lord Elrond, he really really hoped that the Elf would fall into a ditch somewhere and worms wriggle over his beautiful hair.

They did not stop for breakfast, or second breakfast or even elevensies. While they never stopped for any of that, Bilbo was missing those meals trekking up a mountain range. They did have one good meal during the day, which was why it was surprising that the sun was over their heads and they hadn’t stopped. Even Bifur had started muttering curses under his breath.

It all came to an end when Bilbo plopped down on the rocky terrain with a loud groan. The Company stopped, the younger ones immediately flocking to him. Balin smiled kindly before turning to Thorin. The dwarf King made a displeased sound- though whether he was displeased at stopping or Bilbo getting hurt was hard to understand.

“Don’t stop for long, we have a long journey to make. Ori! Go find a safe space.”

The poor boy squeaked and ran. Dori sent a rather nasty look at Thorin.

“Well, anybody can search for a good cave. Nori could’ve done a better job,” huffed Dori.

Nori just rolled his eyes and followed Bifur, talking in Khudzul. Thorin had walked away, looking to the Misty Mountain.

The youngest Ri brother soon came back about a small cave that could house them for lunch. Thorin grunted in answer and followed. Fili and Kili hurled Bilbo on his feet and carried him, ignoring his protests and Bofur’s loud chuckles. Once they were under the stone, Bombur began fixing up lunch. Bilbo was pushed down at a corner, to ‘get better’.

“Everybody finish, we need to leave and find a shelter for the night in the mountains.”

The declaration was not accepted well by anyone. Fili and Kili began to protest, but one glare from Thorin was enough to shut them both.

Balin looked displeased too and shared a look with Dwalin with suggested he felt the same. But neither brother said a word, and every dwarf knew Thorin spoke the truth. Their only chance at a shelter for the upcoming night, which was hours away, was in the mountains.

Bombur handed Bilbo a bowl of stew which he took with a smile. Bofur settled down beside him, making a show out of his eating habits.

“He is in a bad mood, ain’t he?” said Bofur to Bilbo, looking at Thorin’s back, “Whatever did ya say to him?”

Bilbo dropped his spoon and began to cough. “Me? I, well, I will be damned! I said nothing! He has been like this, why on Earth would you think I said something to him?”

Bofur shrugged, unbothered by Bilbo’s spluttering, “He went out last night looking all happy, well, whatever happy he could look that is. Came back with you hanging on his arms with the sourest expression possible. What can a dwarf think?”

Bilbo opened his mouth and then closed it. He had no answer to that at all.

“What were you doing with Master Oakenshield, Bilbo?” asked Ori. That innocent question got almost everyone’s attention on him, “It was very late.”

“Well, I, It was...”

“Yes, yes!” Dori nodded, his braids moving with his head. He levelled a glare on Bilbo. The Hobbit was sure Dori was not extremely fond of him, despite their shared love for tea “What were you doing with master Oakenshield so late night?”

“Bad sight?” Oin picked up his ear trumpet, looking around in confusion, “What bad sight? Who has a bad sight? Fili, laddie, did you not get your eyes checked?”

Fili looked aghast at such a question. “My eyesight is all right! I am well! It’s Kili’s sight which is bad!”

Kili gasped, “Excuse me! I am the hunter here! My sight is perfectly all right.”

“Yet ya couldn’t differentiate between male and female elves,” said Dwalin.

Laughter took over the dwarrows. Bifur said something that had everyone doubling up. By the looks of the flush on Kili’s cheek, it was nothing kind. Kili crossed his arms and pouted, ignoring his brother trying to cheer him up.

Bofur continued to look at Bilbo with a suspicious gaze, but said nothing more on the matter. Bilbo was glad for that. He had no real answers after all.

Once everybody was done and Bombur began to pack it all up, Bilbo met Oin’s eyes. The deaf healer gave him a knowing look, nodded and turned around.

Bilbo blinked, once, then twice, and finally let out a sigh. He had no idea what that was and despite a good meal which was not filling enough, Bilbo was in no mood to dissect that look. He busied himself, packing up his things, checking whether Fili and Kili had again left behind something and making sure he was ready for the long trek that followed them.

It was as if luck had decided to abandon the Company, for as soon as they reached the base of Misty Mountains, thunder and rain followed. It was worse than the downpour that the Company had encountered before if Bilbo could say so himself. Gandalf had surely said that he could not control weather, but he surely could have helped.

Thorin lead the band for as long as he could until he realized that it was a futile attempt. They needed shelter or they wouldn’t survive the night.

It was then that Dwalin shouted, “Look out!”

A large stone made it’s way to the mountain and crashed some levels above the company. It shattered and the bits and pieces that managed to hit the Company were too large.

Bilbo could not bring himself to thank any Valar for saving their lives.

Thorin, for his part, was not doing any better either. Balin’s shout of ‘Thunder Battle’ had shaken him to the core.

He was a dwarf, and like every dwarfling, he had heard tales of Stone-Giants. Frerin always laughed at the description but Thorin had been terrified of them. Huge Giants made of Stone who had thunder battles were very scary, even if his younger brother did not think so.

It was as if his childhood nightmares and adult insecurities were coming to haunt him. Thorin tried to look around, but could not see Bilbo or Fili. The only reason he knew Kili was there was because his nephew was shouting rather loudly.

He was sure Dwalin and others were taking care of their Hobbit- everybody was taken with him, even if Dori did not show it. His beloved’s leg was hurt and had the journey not been so necessary he would have allowed it to heal for another few seasons before allowing Bilbo to leave any sort of comfort.

Thorin also knew Bilbo would be out of the home in within a week.

The realization that they were all standing on another Stone Giant made Thorin shudder. He could hear his nephews call for each other and he pushed down the dread. They would not be separated. They would be fine.

He would make sure they were fine.

As soon as he could see another landing, Thorin shouted, “Go, go go!” before breaking out into a run. Half of them, who had managed to assemble on one of the legs of the Stone Giant followed him without a doubt.

Once safe, Thorin saw the other group holding on for their dear lives. His eyesight might not be the best, but he could make out living creatures on the stone.

“JUMP!”

He did not know if the shout had reached the fellow dwarrows as the giant’s leg crashed with the stone. When he fell back, there were no dwarrows, and Thorin could see nothing.

Thorin’s heart hitched. Fili had been in the other group.

For a moment Thorin did not care if he fell in this slippery rain. Fili, his heir, his nephew, was nowhere to be seen. Thorin had lost one golden-haired Durin to Dragon Fire, and he would be damned if he lost another in a bloody thunder battle.

He ran without care, ignoring the cautionry shouts of his Company members. As he turned around his eyes first fell on Bombur, and then on Dwalin.

It was as if someone had breathed life back into him when he saw Fili lying on the top of the pile of dwarves that had fallen. He was fine, and his groaning was to the minimum.

Letting his shoulders droop, Thorin walked forward, helping Dwalin and then Fili to stand up. He clasped Fili’s head in his hands and pulled him close.

“Never scare me like that again, _Mizmith._ ”

Fili blushed at the endearment, but let his Uncle hold him. The moments when Thorin allowed his Kingly exterior to break were far and few in between, and all knew to cherish them as much as they could.

As Thorin pulled back, Kili ran into Fili’s arms, looking close to tears.

“Where’s Bilbo?”

Thorin froze as soon as those words left Bofur’s mouth. Bofur shouted, “Where’s the Hobbit?”

The dwarf king immediately pulled back. It couldn’t...no, everybody had made it. They had.

He looked around in a haphazard manner, begging to mahal to see the Hobbit’s face when his eyes landed on a pair of hands clutching on the edge of the stone. \

Bilbo’s feet were not meant for steep mountains- those leathery soles worked better on green hills.

Ori was extending his hand, but the lad would fall himself.

Not that Thorin cared. He could see his Hobbit’s wide eyes, looking in fear and his hands losing his grip. He did not need to think twice before jumping down. There was an endless abyss beneath them, but Bilbo was hanging on his mere stubbornness.

Thorin hurled the Hobbit by all the strength he could muster and pushed him up. Ori held him, and so did Bofur, and Bilbo was safe.

Bilbo was on the passageway.

Thorin did not have a moment to breathe before he felt his own grip fail on the watery stone. He would fall, and he would die.

Dwalin caught him before he could fall deeper and hurled him back up all on his own. The dampness made the stone useless and Thorin was very much aware of how long Dwalin could hold on. Somehow, by the combined strength of Dwalin and Thorin, he got back up.

Bilbo was there, resting his back on the stone.

Thorin could say nothing except stare.

He was aware that something was happening. Fili had found a cave and Dwalin was scrouging the area. Everyone was hurled in the shelter and it was good enough. Balin told Gloin to not light up the wood, not to bring attention.

But all the while Thorin’s gaze was fixed on Bilbo. The Hobbit. His husband.

He could have died. He would have died.

Perhaps it was the excitement of the day. The haunting of words and memories alike. Or maybe it was the realization of what this journey meant for all.

Dis had deemed such times when Thorin’s mind and mouth worked in the opposite direction as ‘episodes’. Many dwarrows dealt with their grief and loss. Each had their own personal battles to fight. Logically, all dwarrows knew that if need be when one could not handle their own self, a dwarf must be allowed to rest.

But the Company was on road, and there was nowhere to be alone. Everyone was reeling from the exciting journey, so no one noticed their King becoming agitated by the second. They did not see his fists clenching and unclenching, his eyes going focused and unfocused.

Nobody noticed until he was standing right in front of Bilbo Baggins.

Balin was the first one who spotted it when Thorin hurled Bilbo on his legs.

“What were you thinking?” hissed Thorin, bringing everyone’s attention on them.

Bilbo looked tired. He was wet, and he hated rain. But Thorin did not care. He could not care.

“You cannot handle mountains!” shouted Thorin, “You have injured yourself and have been hopping around like a one-legged chicken. Is this how you plan on helping us?”

“Thorin,” Balin warning went unheeded.

“Well,” Bilbo huffed, shivering. The mountain was cold, Thorin knew that. Bilbo should not be in a mountain, “I injured myself fighting. And yes, my leathery feet could have slipped, but I am alive, all right?”

Bilbo sounded more dejected than angry. But Thorin’s heart and mind were not in sync, and while his heart shouted for him to care for his Husband, his mind was going everywhere at once.

“Your feet were made for soft ground,” sneered Thorin, “For grass and hills, not hard mountain floors and stonework. You do not belong here. You should turn around, go back to your cosy house and warm fireplace. And if that is too much for a problem, just go back those _Elves_ for a safe place. You have no place here.”

Someone gasped, and there were shallow muttering going around the cave. The tension in the cave grew thicker as Bilbo stepped forward, going tow to tow with the King.

“Do not belong here, eh?” Bilbo huffed, levelling Thorin with a dangerous glare “Well, you know what? You are absolutely, fucking right!”

Silence followed. Nobody moved, nobody said a word. Every single one of the dwarrows looked at the Hobbit in surprise. But Bilbo’s eyes were fixed on Thorin.

“I do not belong in these, these, bloody rugged mountains and stormy passageways! I do belong with a group of dwarrows, eh? That’s what you mean?”

Thorin felt his heart drop. He knew, at the moment, that he had pulled an age-old string that Bilbo had buried deep down in his heart. Yet his mind was still not in control, and one would think with all the shouting he had done, he would be fine.

He was wrong.

“Yes,” Thorin hissed, “You belong with your group of Halflings who drink ale and smoke pipe and do not know how cruel the world is! Who know nothing of loss!”

“Do not talk to me about loss,” hissed Bilbo, eye to eye with Thorin, “Don’t you dare talk to me about loss, Thorin Oakenshield.”

“Enough!”

Thorin had no idea when Balin had squirmed his way between himself and Bilbo, yet he stood there, glaring at the Dwarf king. “Kili, Fili, take your Uncle away. Bilbo, lad, listen to me...”

Thorin did not listen to whatever Balin said to Bilbo. It was too late.

It was far too late.

* * *

_The winter that followed was hard, but the dwarves of Ered Luin and the Blue Mountains lived. From the hundreds who had died in the normal winters before, the numbers came down to around fifty in each mountain._

_The food brought from the Shire was enough to let them through, and when Spring finally came, the dwarrows rejoiced. They danced and laughed for such a hard winter had passed and they had survived._

_It was with that in mind that Thorin Oakenshield made his way to Hobbiton. As expected, the borders were being protected. The dwarrows who had stayed back to protect the lands with Rangers, as the treaty had stated, greeted their King and told him of the Winter that had passed._

“ _The River had frozen,” said one, “and wolves and wargs had come out.”_

“ _How many did we lose here?”_

“ _Five. Two from Ered Luin, one form Blue Mountains and two of Erebor.”_

_Lesser than usual. Thorin nodded. “Make sure the families know.”_

“ _Yes, Your Majesty.”_

_Thorin nodded as he continued on his journey with the other dwarf guards._

“ _Was there resistance?”_

“ _Not much,” said another guard, “But some Halflings, who were not so well to do, were complaining about lack of food.”_

_Thorin raised an eyebrow at that, “The Thain said they had plentiful.”_

_The dwarf nodded solemnly. “They did, but these halflings eat quite a lot. They did have enough but then the last harvest failed.”_

_Thorin’s breath hitched. That was not good news. If the Hobbits had a bad winter on their behalf, the treaty could go null and void. Food was necessary for Dwarrows, and if the Thain pulled back his support now they would not fare well._

_When Thorin reached the Great Smial with these thoughts and plans to convince Thain to allow the trade to continue, he was greeted warmly. He could see the effect of Winter on the old Hobbit, with waistcoat hanging loose and his face had lost some of the colour._

“ _It’s nothing,” said the Took, “We would have had worse if your Dwarves were not here, Mr Oakenshield. They protected us, yes they did.”_

“ _But your grains...”_

_The Thain waved his hands as if Thorin’s worries were not important, “Harvests fail. It was a bad Winter, this Fell Winter. We lost many Hobbits, but not as much to hunger as we did to the wolves. The dwarves fought tooth and nail while the Rangers were slow. You managed to save many of us.”_

_Thorin nodded, pleased at the news. He was well aware of the perils of the wild. There was also a sort of petty satisfaction at being better than men too._

“ _Are you going to the Shire?” The Thain asked conversationally as the two sat drinking tea. But there was something else in his tone as he pressed, “Thinking of working as a smith again?”_

_Truly, Thorin had not thought about it. He wanted to meet Bilbo, explain things to him, but despite thinking it over for all this time, he wasn’t sure._

“ _Perhaps.”_

“ _Hmm,” the Thain frowned, “Do stop by Bag End. My dear Belladonna, oh poor soul, she would like to meet you.”_

_Thorin raised an eyebrow, “Did something happen? To the Baggins?”_

_Gerontius nodded gravely. “Mr Baggins perished in a fight with wolves.”_

_Thorin’s heart stopped._

“ _It was lucky that young Bilbo had learnt how to wield a sword and crossbow,” continued the Thain, unaware of Thorin’s inner turmoil, “Or else poor Belladonna would have lost her life as well. She was an adventurous lass, yes, but not that much.”_

_Thorin nodded numbly. “And what of her husband?”_

_The Thain frowned, “I just said he...oh! Oh dear, you failed to understand me! No, no, Bilbo is all right, just a scratch or something. It is poor Bungo who passed on.”_

_Thorin should not have felt as much joy as he did at the news. His One’s father was gone. But he couldn’t help but sigh slowly._

“ _I will make sure to visit them soon.”_

_And visit he did. As soon as Thorin reached the Shire, he made his way to the little hill. There were murmurs that followed him, of ‘Mad Baggins’ and ‘unnatural Hobbit’, but Thorin ignored them as he reached the green door._

_Gathering all his courage, Thorin knocked. There was shuffling on the other side, some shouting before the door flung open and Belladonna Baggins stood there._

_She was much thinner than Thorin had last seen her, her eyes red. He did not comment. He was well aware of how grief worked._

“ _Mr Oakenshield!”_

_Thorin bowed slightly, “Mrs Baggins.”_

_Belladonna let out a small laugh and bowed back. She immediately ushered him into the kitchen. Thorin did not comment as she began to fuss over him, not mentioning that he was much healthier._

_She called out for Bilbo and Thorin ignored the thump in his chest as the young hobbit appeared in the doorway._

“ _What is- oh. Oh.”_

_Bilbo had thinned considerably as well. His waistcoat was loose and his face had lost much of its chubbiness. Thorin was not sure if it was a side effect of age or malnourishment. His hair was in riots and there was a certain difference in the way he held himself. “Th-Mr Oakenshield.”_

_Thorin sighed. They had not parted on the best of terms. “Mr Baggins.”_

“ _Bilbo!” Belladonna chided, “Is that a way you greet your Master?”_

_Thorin raised an eyebrow as Bilbo snorted, “Mum.”_

“ _Oh!” Belladonna pushed him into a chair and put a cup of steaming tea in front of Thorin, “This boy is useless. I wish to thank you, Mr Oakenshield. Had you not taught my boy all that you did, we would have, well, I don’t know.”_

“ _I am very sorry for your loss, Mrs Baggins.”_

_Belladonna merely hummed, not acknowledging his words but not ignoring it either. “The crossbow that you gave Bilbo worked quite well. He killed enough animals with that.”_

“ _And is declared Mad Baggins,” muttered Bilbo under his breath._

_Thorin's hands stopped midway. “I beg your pardon?”_

_Belladonna sighed, “Hobbits don’t take very well to fighting. Bilbo was quite...forward, for the lot of them.”_

_That did not sit well with Thorin. Bilbo fought, from what Thorin could understand. He saved his mother’s life. That was bravery. “He saved their life, did he not?”_

“ _Of course he did, but you know,” Belladonna waved her hand around, “Gossip.”_

_Bilbo’s ears were red and he refused to look at the two. Belladonna looked at Bilbo, then at thorin, before abruptly standing up from where she had seated herself._

“ _I was doing something important,” she said, and Thorin could guess exactly what she was doing before he came in, “Bilbo, dear, why don’t you entertain our guest? I will be back in a few.”_

_Before either could say a word, Belladonna had disappeared inside the house. There was a loud bang of the door. If Bilbo’s expression was anything to go by, this happened often._

_Thorin looked at Bilbo, and he looked at uncomfortable as Thorin felt. The awkward silence was too much, and thorin could feel the tea getting colder by the second. Again, gathering all his courage, he looked up._

“ _Hello.”_

“ _Hi.”_

_Mahal, this was awkward._

“ _How have you been?”_

“ _Very well,” Bilbo played with the helm of his sleeves, “How was...the mountains?”_

“ _Prospering. Your grains helped many dwarflings to survive this harsh winter.”_

_Bilbo nodded. “That’s good. How are your nephews?”_

_Thorin felt warmth settle in his chest. He hadn’t talked that much about his family, yet Bilbo remembered, “They are well, creating havoc in the mountain. My sister has gone grey much before her time.”_

_He expected Bilbo to crack a smile, but the Hobbit did nothing. Thorin knew why. Grief, of losing someone, of war, was not something you could easily let go of._

“ _Why are you here, Thorin?”_

_The dwarf sighed, “I wished to see you.”_

“ _I thought you said you regretted what happened.”_

“ _I said I did not not regret it.”_

_Bilbo gave him a look. “It’s basically the same thing.”_

“ _It’s..” Thorin groaned, “Bilbo, there is much you don’t know about me. About dwarves. I do not wish to hurt you.”_

_Bilbo finally looked up, frowning, “I am not a child, Thorin Oakenshield, and I would very much like it if you did not treat me as such.”_

_The boyish hobbit Thorin had known the autumn before was gone, replaced by a much serious Hobbit. Someone who had seen the world- or at least, some parts of it. “I am not treating you such, Bilbo.”_

“ _You surely are,” said Bilbo, crossing his arms, “I can take rejection. You do not need to sugarcoat it for me.”_

“ _Rejection?” Thorin huffed, “Mahal, no! I, Bilbo, I do like you.”_

_Bilbo snorted, “Then why did you leave the day after...you know.”_

_Sighing, Thorin said, “I had to leave. I am a King, even if in exile. My duty is to my people.”_

“ _Doesn’t explain why you had to leave instantly,” muttered Bilbo._

_Thorin leaned forward, “I believe I made a mistake. Bilbo, I like you very much. If you would allow, I would like to know you better.”_

_He said nothing of courting, for that, would be impossible._

_Bilbo frowned at him for the longest time. Thorin could feel each second pass, before Bilbo’s shoulders finally dropped, “I, well, I need time. You are staying, right?”_

“ _Yes.”_

_For the first time since Thorin had entered the Hobbit hole, he saw something like a smile pass over Bilbo’s face._

“ _Then I will let you know._

* * *

Thorin knew that there was stone beneath his feet, and stone above his head. He knew that a blonde and raven head had made him sit and made him drink water. He knew they were asking him something.

He knew it all, yet he felt like he knew nothing.

“Are you all right?”

He wasn’t sure if he was all right. His hands felt too light, the scars there not his own. But the boy looked worried and Thorin figured he should answer him.

“I am fine, Frerin. I am well.”

The blonde froze, and Thorin could not think why so. He could not truly think anything. His mouth wasn’t his own at the moment, and he was allowing his head to do the talking. If he was talking or thinking it out loud?

Another pair of hands dropped on his shoulder, and all Thorin could make out was black hair, Durin’s hair, a small wisp of a beard and...and...

“I am fine, Dis. I am well.”

“You should go to sleep.”

He did not who said it. He did not want to sleep. But he allowed the two who were near him to put him down and cover him with a rug. He was cold, but he truly could not understand why he was cold.

He could not understand anything.

“How is he?”

Thorin heard someone. He did not know who it was. His mind told him it could be...Balin?

“Out for it,” said one of the boys, “He called me Frerin.”

Thorin blinked. Frerin. He knew that name.

“Oh, Fili. One of those days?”

Fili. He knew that name too.

“Aye.”

“Why did he call me Dis?” whined the other boy, “Do I look that much like Amad?”

“It might be lack of beard.” said Fili dryly, before turning to Balin, “Thorin hasn’t had such an episode in years. He does not lose temper this way, he does not forget himself. What happened?”

“I don’t know laddie,” Balin sounded tired, “Something must have happened last night.”

“Have you asked Bilbo?” said Kili, “He was with him last.”

“Bilbo is currently not very pleased with your Uncle,” said Balin, “We can talk tomorrow. Let Thorin rest. Mahal knows he needs it.”

Thorin heard them disappear. As the voices grew lesser, and the ground beneath him began to feel solid again, Thorin could recall all that had happened in the past few hours.

It came slowly, like how drops of water first fall on Erth to warn you of the upcoming rain, before falling all at once. He relished those drops until the words came crashing to him.

Mahal, he had said some nasty words to his Husband. Thorin tried to look around, but he was placed far away. He could hear Gloin’s snores. Gloin never just fell asleep. A long time seemed to have passed, yet for Thorin, it felt like another moment.

He shifted, only to find himself pinned down by a leg. Thorin raised en eyebrow and turned, only to find Kili’s leg sprawled over him. He himself was pinned down by Fili, who was clutching on his brother as a babe clutched to his mother.

Despite himself, Thorin had to smile. Kili and Fili were grown. They did not clutch to their Uncle or Mother anymore, ready to prove they were all grown up. But in times like these, those two looked no different than young babes that Thorin had raised.

He had called them Frerin and Dis. Mahal save him, either those two would walk on eggshells around him or make fun of him for ages. It was hard to tell with the boys.

Sighing, Thorin dropped. He would apologize to Bilbo. Losing himself was no reason to say such dreadful things to his husband. He would do it as soon as they woke up in the morning.

That was the last thought Thorin had before teh ground under him collapsed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Dissociation. Mental health issues.
> 
> I have written it as I have experienced it, so if you find something missing or wrong, do feel free to let me know! 
> 
> I find the lack of mental health issues in books and fics really annoying and thus decided to include it here. Hope you liked it.


	8. Fight my Way to You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Far into the Misty Mountains...lives Goblins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you see the movies carefully, Fili is all but missing all through Rivendell until they run out of Misty Mountains. Does it bother anyone else or is it just me?

Down, down, down and down they fell. The Company landed on each other, each groaning before they realized where they had landed.

A hoard of Goblins came to them from the only path. Dwalin looked behind but saw a dark abyss nobody would like to fall into. As one after the other they filtered in, each of the Dwarf was surrounded by nasty goblins and lead away to their king.

None were impressed by the round-bellied goitre induced Goblin King, with the most abysmal lyrics to a song Balin had ever heard. Abomination, the lot of them, and absolute disgraces.

When they were searched and their weapons were taken away, Nori’s hoard made every Dwarf’s blood boil. Dwalin looked ready to wreck his neck with his bare arms, and even Bombur looked like he was ready to sit on the thief.

The Goblin King bellowed, and all eyes fell on Thorin, concerned. His eyes were downcast, his fists still clenching and unclenching. Oin immediately stepped up when the Goblin King demanded to speak to the leader. Bofur, sweet-tempered Bofur walked up next, trying to confuse and confound the Goblin.

But enough was enough, and Thorin allowed himself to breathe evenly as the Goblin King made plans to torture poor Ori.

“Wait!”

He ignored the whispers, looking up at the King and walking in front. The Goblin recognized him, as he said, “Well, well, well. Look who it is.”

Thorin forced himself to remain stoic as the Goblin continued and gave a mocking bow, “Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the Mountain.”

“Oh, but I’m forgetting,” said the Goblin, “You don’t have a mountain. And you’re not a king, which makes you nobody, really.”

Thorin glared at the abomination. He would enjoy killing this Goblin scum later.

“I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head,” smiled the Goblin King, “Just a head. Nothing attached.”

He knew he was being hunted, but hearing it from one of the foul creatures made something heavy drop in Thorin’s stomach. He knew not which enemy they were dealing with, and the uncertainty worried him more.

“Perhaps you know of whom I speak,” said the Goblin, “An old enemy of yours. A pale Orc, astride a white Warg.”

Thorin felt his heartbeat fasten. He knew that it could not be true, yet felt the tremble. “Azog the Defiler was destroyed. He was slain in battle long ago.”

The Goblin king looked amused, “So you think his defiling days are done, do you?”

The dwarves kept quiet as the Goblin King sent his message and began to sing again, and the orcs thoroughly inspected their weapons. Balin took some petty satisfaction when they found the Goblin Cleaver, but the heavy whips that followed were not worth it.

Thorin tried to shake off the orcs as they pounded on him, looking around when his heart stopped.

Among the Company, there was no sign of Bilbo or Fili.

It was in that moment that a bright light pushed all the goblins away. Thorin pushed his hand up to shield himself from the light. It lasted for a long moment, and in contrast to the ugly laughs, the mountain was utterly silent. He dared to pull down his hands when the silence stretched.

Thorin had never been gladder to see the old wizard.

“Take up arms.” he said, and Thorin did not even think to contradict Gandalf as he commanded, “Fight!”

None of the dwarves wasted a moment in picking up their weapons. Thorin picked his own sword, before pushing in more and fighting the Orcs.

“Pick up the essentials!”

The dwarves immediately rounded around their bags, some which had fallen with them, and fought the orcs. Ori, as the youngest, began to scrouge anything important in a single backpack as everyone else protected him.

The Company fought until Gandalf shouted for them to follow him and everyone immediately took off. They fought through the army, using ladders and wooden planks, pushing them off. Nobody noticed where Gandalf was leading them, and Thorin wondered if he even knew where he was taking them himself.

It was then that they faced the Goblin King again, and the Dwarf King was very content in letting the wizard handle the Goblin. His tremors were back.

Yet he had not expected to fall down, surfing on an ill-made bridge.

“Well, that could have been worse.”

The Goblin King fell on them with a loud thud. Thorin wanted to curse Bofur.

“You’ve got to be joking!”

The Company began to pull themselves out when Kili’s shout of ‘Gandalf’ alerted them of an army of Goblins running down to them.

“Only one thing will save us, daylight!”

The dwarrows followed Gandalf through the caves, relishing a bit of sun that they could see. None stopped running as the stone under their boots turned to soil, and the sun began to lower from the height. They did not stop until Kili’s horrified shout stopped them all.

“Where’s Fili?”

As the Company exchanged looks, Bofur shouted, “Where’s Bilbo?”

* * *

_The Shire was a peaceful place. Despite a horrid winter left behind and a failed harvest, with many families losing their kins, Hobbits began to work up. For years to come, Hobbis would shudder when talked about the Fell Winter. A failed harvest, the Brandybuck river frozen, and had it not been for the dwarves, so many more young Hobbits would have lost their lives._

_The first year Thorin had arrived in the Shire, Hobbits had looked at him with curious gazes. Some were distrustful, some were excited, very few welcoming. The second Summer he stayed in the Shire, he was followed by mostly grateful nods and smiles. A few Hobbits were all who looked at him distrustfully, and unsurprisingly Lobelia Sackville-Baggins was one of them._

“ _We lost so much! Lotho told me that many families had to cut their rations and limit their meals to two a day. Two! Can you imagine? Dwarves are bad news, did I not say? That Smith is no good. Furthermore, teaching Bilbo to fight. Oh, he has truly soiled the Baggins names.”_

_Thorin did not even raise an eyebrow as Lobeila spoke near to his shop. A few Hobbits shushed her up, others told Thorin not to listen to her, and very few agreed to her before smiling greatly at Thorin._

_It was not until Bilbo Baggins came to his blacksmith corner that he truly got to witness how vile Hobbits could be._

_The morning sun had reached its peak, and like any other day, Mrs Sackville-Baggins was busy spreading words about Thorin. Nobody listened to her anymore, for all Hobbits were peace-loving people and they would rather spend some time drinking ale rather than bitch about a dwarf who might have helped and saved their lives._

“ _Nasty creatures,” Lobelia was saying to one of the many Mrs Chubb, “At least you know what men and Elves are like. But dwarrows are so secretive. What exactly are they hiding so important? Huh. They even had to take food from us.”_

“ _What was that Lobeila?”_

_Thorin’s head snapped up from the customer he was dealing with. Bilbo was standing right at the edge of his shop, his hands on his hips, glaring down at Lobelia. She, however, did not budge at all._

“ _You know, Bilbo,” she said rather sweetly, “I was talking about the dwarf.”_

“ _His name, is Thorin,” sniffed Bilbo, “and he is the King of his people.”_

“ _Pish-posh,” Lobelia gave a high pitched laugh, “Kings are all nonsenses. And if he is one, what is he doing at the blacksmith's shop?”_

_A lot of eyes in the market had turned to Bilbo and Lobelia, some not even trying to hide their amusement._

“ _That’s nobody’s business but his,” said Bilbo, sneering, “I expected better from a Baggins than to insult someone in a marketplace.”_

_His smile turned almost feral as he grinned down, “But then, you are not a proper Baggins now, are you?”_

_The sun might as well have disappeared. The Hobbits had all frozen. Thorin looked at the two Hobbits, one looking viciously smug and the other like someone had physically slapped her._

_He had seen wrestling matches which had ended better._

_Lobelia recovered first, glaring down at Bilbo, “You are the one to talk. You are half Took!”_

“ _Tooks are Thains, need I remind you?” Bilbo said smugly, “I come from two very respectable families of the Shire, and I don’t go around pulling other Hobbits, or dwarves, down to make myself feel better! So, step. Back!”_

_With that, Bilbo turned to Thorin’s shop and walked with his head high in the air, ignoring the stares as he walked in. He did not even greet Thorin properly before walking inside._

_Thorin looked at the Hobbits once, before bowing his head and walking back after Bilbo._

_Instead of sitting on the bench, Bilbo was pacing, muttering something to himself._

“ _Bilbo?” Thorin said hesitantly._

_Bilbo looked up, his eyes widened, “I did not just do that, did I?”_

“ _Do what?”_

“ _Insult Lobilea in front of the whole marketplace.”_

_Thorin opened his mouth, before closing it and bowing his head slightly. “I think you’ll find you did that.”_

_Bilbo’s shoulders drooped, shaking his head, “I was Mad Baggins, now I have officially given up any respectability I might have had.”_

_Thorin nodded, though he could not truly understand what had just happened. Bilbo threw his hands up in the air._

“ _Thank God Pa is dead, he would have had words. Well, I have already given up the last ounce of Baggins respectability, might as well do this.”_

_And before Thorin could understand, Bilbo’s lips were on his own, his hands pressing hard against his chest. His eyes widened at the first moment before he allowed himself to relax. Bilbo slowly pulled on Thorin’s lips, earning a gasp from the dwarf. Thorin rested his hands on Bilbo’s hips, pulling him closer._

_The two parted for just a moment when Bilbo looked at Thorin with wide eyes, question lingering. Instead of answering, Thorin pulled him into another kiss, this time allowing himself to take the lead. Bilbo was not complaining. He allowed himself to go lax, relying on the dwarf to hold him close and keep him steady while they devoured each other’s mouth._

_After what felt like hours, but was less than a few minutes, they pulled apart, both out of breath. Bilbo looked up at Thorin, smiling slightly._

“ _Do you regret that?”_

_Despite the situation, Thorin slowly chuckled. “I do not regret it.”_

_Bilbo smiled, feeling his legs on the ground again. Thorin looked at him, a frown appearing on his face. “Though, if I must break the moment, you still don’t know much about me and I have yet to know you truly.”_

_The Hobbit nodded, pulling back slightly so that there was space between the two of them but not letting away completely, “Well, you are here for at least mid-autumn. I say that’s long enough to know each other?”_

_Thorin smiled, a little turn of the corner of his mouths. Bilbo’s heart was thrumming harder than it had during the kiss. “I would like that. Very much.”_

* * *

When Bilbo opened his eyes, he realized that he was not in the cave they had settled down in, because that cave was surely not covered in mushrooms. Furthermore, he was sure he did not have golden braids in his mouth when he went to sleep.

Pushing the hair out of his mouth, Bilbo tried to sit up. But his back was clearly hurt and the wound on his leg seemed to have worsened.

As he let out a groan, the body beside him stirred.

“Bilbo?”

Bilbo cracked open his eyes to see the Durin blue eyes staring back at him.

“Fili?” he groaned again, before trying to sit up. There was some scrambling from both parties as they tried to untangle from each other. But the very next moment, Bilbo felt himself being pushed and a hand covering his mouth.

Before he could question Fili, his eyes landed on an orc beside them. From what he could understand, they were hidden by the mushrooms. A creature- not an orc, yet not a hobbit or a dwarf either, came crawling out. His eyes were unnaturally large and he made Bilbo’s skin crawl.

The two watched in silence as the creature pulled the orc away. The Goblin was not the one to go with a fight, but the creature hit it with rocks. He basically rendered it unconscious, talking about flesh and bones.

It all made Bilbo shudder. Nasty things, all of it.

The two stayed quiet, their hearts beating very fast until the creature disappeared. It was only after Fili was sure that it was gone that he pulled back his hand, sighing.

“Are you all right Bilbo?” whispered Fili, scrambling away.

Bilbo nodded, “I, I am fine. What exactly happened?”

Fili sighed, “The cave was a trap. We fell. As we were being taken, I saw you and tried to grab you but then an orc attacked us and...we fell.”

Bilbo’s head hurt. He clutched them in his arms and nodded, “I think I remember some of it. What do we do?”

Fili stood up, brushing the dirt off his tunic. Their packs were gone, missing. Bilbo was glad that at least he had his coins hidden in his clothes. He had lost his crossbow, along with some of the notes he had been taking and a few herbs, but those were not important than their lives.

Fili helped Bilbo get up as they groaned in pain. Fili pulled out his swords as did Bilbo. With the lack of his crossbow and the sword Thorin had smithed for him, he could only rely on the Elvish blade. Thorin would have a fit.

The thought made Bilbo angry. Thorin could have a fit all he wanted to. That utter, desolate, foul-mouthed, short-tempered, sick mushroom. Bilbo could not even think badly about him even with all the anger.

He shook his head, trying to find something else of importance when his eyes fell on a ring.

As he bent down to pick it up, Fili asked, “What is it?”

Bilbo frowned, “A gold ring.”

Fili frowned as well, “Must have fallen out of the Goblin’s hands.”

Bilbo wondered why an orc would have a gold ring. It was not pointed enough to be a weapon, nor regal enough to bear a mark of any important King. It was very pretty, Bilbo would give it that. There was something very enticing about the ring. Though he wasn’t a jewellery person, Bilbo felt the urge to slip on the ring.

And so he did.

At once, the world blurred around him. There was light in the cave, though not the kind which would give you warmth.

Fili gasped, blinking. “Bilbo! Where are you?”

“What are you talking about? I am right here.”

Fili looked at him with wide eyes, but his eyes kept darting around him as if he couldn’t truly see Bilbo. “What?” he squeaked.

Bilbo frowned. He waved his hands, but Fili was just staring around. He tried jumping, but his leg refused to cooperate. Just for the childishness, he poked out his tongue.

Fili was none the wiser.

Shaking his head, Bilbo took off the ring. Fili gasped, “Mahal, Bilbo. It’s a magic ring!”

Bilbo titled his head, looking down at the simple gold ring. “It is?”

“You were invisible!”

“Too many bones! Not enough flesh!”

Both Fili and Bilbo jumped at the sound. The creature was crying. Bilbo pocketed the ring, pushing it at the back of his head. They would solve the mystery later.

Fili lead them towards the sound. Bilbo followed, careful not to wince as his leg protested at being pushed so much. As they peeped over a large stone, they could see the weird creature from before sitting on a stone in the centre of the lake, eating the orc.

Fili made a retching sound, before sobering up. “You stay here Bilbo,” he said, “I am going to find a way out.”

“No!” Bilbo held his sleeve, “Fili, we stay together. We don’t know where the rest of the Company is!”

“We have to find a way out!” said Fili. Bilbo tugged on his sleeve and shushed him. Fili frowned, but then he heard the water movement.

Fili immediately jumped out, his sword facing front when the creature landed in front of the dwarf. He jumped from his makeshift boat and grinned at Fili.

“Bless us and splash us,” it hissed, “Precious. It’s a meaty mouthful.”

As the creature began to move forward, Fili pointed his sword at its chest. “You move, and I will kill you.”

The creature began to shout “Gollum!” before backing off. “It’s got an elfish blade, but it’s a dwarf, isn’t it?”

Fili huffed, “You know a lot of dwarves?”

“I feasts on it,” hissed Gollum, and Bilbo shuddered from behind the stone. This place was horrid, absolutely horrid, “And I feasts on you!”

Fili was hesitating, still pointing its sword at Gollum. “Stay back, you abomination! I will kill you before you even jump on me.”

Gollum drew back, glaring at Fili. The two began to walk in circles, glaring at each other. Bilbo peaked over the stone when he heard no sound, and saw the creature Gollum slowly moving towards his hiding space. What was worse, though, was that Fili was moving closer to the lake.

He was planning to dunk Fili in the water.

Bilbo had no doubt on Fili’s abilities to swim, but it was a different place, with darkness lingering at every stone. It was a split-second decision, but Bilbo picked up a stone, and as soon as Gollum came close to his hiding spot, he raised it and hit it on the head.

Gollum fell on the ground, shrieking. Its eyes were however soon shut as Bilbo hit it again overhead, careful not to break it open. The creature growled at Bilbo, before falling limp at the stone.

“Bilbo!” Fili walked up, confused, “Why did you do that?”

“It was planning on drowning you!” said Bilbo, “Look behind.”

Fili did and immediately scrambled beside the Hobbit. “I don’t think he was that smart.”

Bilbo huffed. Dwarrows and their pride. “He was.”

“But now we don’t have a way out,” Fili pointed out.

The realization dawned on Bilbo, “Oh, yes. We don’t.”

Fili kicked the creature and it whimpered slowly in its sleep. “What do we do with this thing?”

“Nothing!” said Bilbo, “Leave it here. We need to get out. Come on.”

Fili allowed himself to be lead by a limping Bilbo, though it was more of Fili guiding Bilbo with his stone-sense. As they crossed a few tunnels, the two found some of their pouches and knives scattered on the ground.

Thanking Mahal loudly for their luck, Fili began to pocket all the blades.

Bilbo gave the younger dwarf an unimpressed stare. “How many knives do you exactly carry, Fili?”

Fili gave him a grin, “A good amount. Don’t you worry.”

Bilbo rolled his eyes. “Paranoid dwarves.”

The two began to walk carefully once Bilbo managed to salvage a few coins and some needles which looked like they belonged to either Dori or Ori. But Bilbo’s leg was hurting more with each passing step and Fili could see his discomfort.

He might groan all about Dwarrow stubbornness, but Bilbo was no better.

As the two passed through an extremely narrow passage and Bilbo fell down, Fili said, “All right, enough Mr Baggins. Here, lean on me.”

Bilbo raised an eyebrow, “What?”

“Come on, lean on me,” said Fili, “you cannot walk with that injured leg. Mahal knows what Thorin was thinking, ordering us to trek. How did you even survive the last day?”

Bilbo grumbled, at the mention of Thorin or his injured leg, Fili did not know. Fili just pulled him up and settled Bilbo on his side, “I am fine. The fall just worsened the wound. Do not worry, boy.”

“Boy?” huffed Fili, “I am eighty, Master Baggins, not a boy.”

“And I am fifty,” said Bilbo, “but according to Hobbits, I am middle-aged and according to dwarrows you are barely an adult. So shush, you are a boy.”

Fili gave him an amused glance but said nothing. As the two began to awkwardly limp, Fili began to frown. Much like how Thorin often frowned when he was troubled.

Just because he was thinking of him did not mean Bilbo was less angry at the dwarf. Nope. Nada.

“Fili?” said Bilbo, “What is it?”

“Nothing,” he muttered.

Bilbo frowned. He knew the frown. He had seen it many times on his husband whenever he would talk of his family back in Ered Luin, or when Bilbo would do something stupid.

Realization dawned on Bilbo as they walked a little further.

“You are worried about Kili.”

Fili said nothing.

“He will be fine,” comforted Bilbo, “He is probably with the rest of the Company.”

Fil sighed, “But we don’t know where they are, Bilbo. Once I get you to a safe place, I will go look for them. Mahal knows what those orcs are doing.”

“Go back?” The place was dangerous enough as it was, “No, no. Fili, they will be fine. They are seasoned warriors, are they not?”

“But I am their leader,” Fili said with as much conviction as he could mutter. At Bilbo’s raised eyebrow, he added, “After uncle. It is my duty. If Thorin were in my place he would do it.”

Bilbo snorted, “If given a chance Thorin wouls worry about the whole world. You worry about your own existence.”

Fili gave a mirthless chuckle, “I am his heir, Bilbo. It is my duty to worry.”

Bilbo stopped, pulling Fili’s face towards his own, “Fili, no. Stop it. Thorin is probably with the rest of the Company and will take care of them. We need to get to a safe space and call for help. Do you understand?”

Fili looked unconvinced but nodded. The two walked in silence for a little longer before Fili said, “Bilbo, may I ask you a question?”

Bilbo nodded.

“Why was Uncle so troubled after we left Rivendell?”

Bilbo sighed. Every member of the Company was wondering so, and it was only a matter of time before it came up, “We might have overheard the Elves say some things.”

Fili frowned. “But why do an Elf’s words worry him so much?”

‘Because he is an insecure dwarf’, Bilbo wanted to say, but he merely shrugged, “I do not know.”

“What were they saying?”

Bilbo did not want to give out the details. It would either result in further animosity between the dwarrows and elves, or he would have to explain exactly how he and Thorin overheard Lord Elrond talk so much about Thorin. So Bilbo settled for the simplest version he could think of, “They were talking about gold-sickness.”

Fili’s face darkened, “They had no reason to talk about matters that are not their own. Those Elves should mind their own business.”

“And you should not be worried about this,” Bilbo said firmly, “Listen, I know your Uncle pushes you a lot. Especially when it comes to your duties. I have noticed it. But you don’t fall into the same trap. Thorin worried because it is in his blood. You don’t become all broody and hateful against Elves and all of that People talk.”

“The same blood runs through my veins, Bilbo,” Fili said, not unkindly. But he could see that Fili thought he was crossing a line, “Uncle has done many great things. He is our true leader. He only wants me to reach my true potential and so do I.”

“It is going to be ages before you will have any duty,” huffed Bilbo, “He needs to relax.”

Before Fili could say anything, they heard a shout which sounded a lot like Gandalf. The two shared an exciting glance before breaking in a sort of half-broken run They could barely see much except the source of light as they turned. Fili and Bilbo broke out into a sort of run, until they reached the ending.

As Fili waited for Bilbo, he could see the last of Dwarf hair disappear into the forest.

“Bilbo!” Fili gasped, “Your wound is becoming redder.”

The Hobbit looked down, and indeed his wound was looking a very angry shade of red. Bilbo waved him away, not wanting to think about that particular thing, “Not important. We need to follow them. Come on.”

Fili looked at him dubiously, before he picked up Bilbo on his back. The Hobbit protested very loudly, but Fili made him no heed as they ran down the trees.

They heard Bofur’s shout of, “Mahal, where’s Bilbo?”

Fili put Bilbo down before shouting back, “Here!”

* * *

_The Summer passed with no other big incident. Soon, the weather began to turn colder. The harvest was a little better that season, but no Hobbit planted their Harvest in hope for expanding their family. Nobody wanted to face another heartbreak after what happened the last season. Many ignored their urges to plant a seed of a child. Instead, they turned their focus to the other good things, like ale and gossip._

_It had been a long time since Bilbo and Lobeila’s face off in the market, but it still remained a well-talked issue. Most of the Hobbist said nothing, but some turned up their noses at Bilbo. Belladonna Baggins was completely in support of all that her son had said and done. She even gave her blessings to Thorin, for the most part._

_That was another part of the gossip mill, the supposed courting of the Hobbit and the Dwarf. It was not uncommon to find Bilbo Baggins in the forge every lunch till afternoon tea, talking a mile an hour with the Dwarf. It was most improper, but then Bilbo Baggins had long since given up on any sense of proper or improper._

_Many Hobbits believed that the Dwarf was playing with young Bilbo’s heart. Nobody had seen one courting gift being exchanged between the two. From what the Tooks said, Dwarrows gave jewels and weapons as courting gifts. But none had seen Thorin Oakenshield hand Bilbo Baggins even a piece of brooch, or Bilbo cooking for Thorin and sharing bouquets properly._

_Bilbo ignored the talks for the most part. He knew that there was nothing official between the two of them, but Thorin cared for him. He always stopped his work whenever Bilbo came, spending long hours listening to him speak. He snuck out for late-night walks with Bilbo, often grumbling but accompanying him nevertheless. He told him tales of Dwarrows, words from their secret language that none else were privy too._

_Ghivashel, Amralime, Kurdel- he called Bilbo._

_Bilbo had a particular weakness for the first word, and Thorin teased him with it as much as he could, looking as Bilbo’s ears turned red and a blush appeared on his cheeks._

_They spent great moments together, talking, laughing, fighting more often than not- verbally and physically. Bilbo did not regret a single moment. But sometimes, even he could not ignore the gossips._

_Thorin was due to leave soon, to reach Ered Luin before winter set in. He would again miss Bilbo’s birthday. To make up for the same, the couple had packed a nice picnic and Thorin closed the forge for the rest of the day._

_That was how Thorin and Bilbo found themselves on the edge of the river again, a picnic basket lying somewhere. Bilbo was talking as Thorin smiled and listened to him._

“ _And then she hit Foggy on the mouth!”_

_Thorin let out a laugh as Bilbo cackled. “Oh, I swear, those two are the worst.”_

“ _They sound like an interesting pair,” said Thorin, “How are they now?”_

“ _Good,” said Bilbo, “Last I heard, they were courting.”_

_Thorin’s smile dimmed, but he nodded and pretended to smile._

_Bilbo looked at Thorin. He liked the time they were spending together. They would exchange childhood tales and their likes and dislikes. The past few weeks were good. But anytime courting or marriage would be mentioned, Thorin’s face would fall and he would change the topic entirely._

_Bilbo wasn’t stupid- he knew he was expecting a lot from a Dwarf King. The gossip mills were probably adding to Bilbo’s curiosity and discomfort as well, but that was unimportant for the most part. So Bilbo decided to push his luck._

“ _How do the dwarves court?”_

_Thorin was taken aback at the question, “Well, they are not that different from you Hobbits. We exchange gifts, the more precious and practical the gift, the more the family would approve. Couples are often chaperoned, for a night spent together is considered equivalent to marriage for dwarrows. I remember how much pain I had to go through when Dis and Vili were courting. Those would sneak at every possible moment!”_

_Bilbo chuckled and Thorin cracked a smile. Unable to help himself, Bilbo leaned sideways and ran a hand through Thorin’s braids. “You lot braid a lot, don’t you? Do you even cut your hair?”_

_Thorin’s look darkened, “Our hair is a very important part of our culture. We braid our hair and beard to show our relationship and our status. Cutting it is a grave insult as well as a source of worry. Only those dwarrows cut their hair who are either banished, shamed or in pain.”_

_Bilbo frowned. “Then why is your beard so short? Did it never grow or...”_

_Thorin looked down at his hands as if contemplating on how to answer the question.“It’s a sign of mourning.”_

“ _Mourning?”_

“ _My whole kingdom was lost,” said Thorin, “and I lost my brother and mother in the dragon fire. A few years later my grandfather was killed and my father...was lost. Then my sister Dis lost her One, leaving her with two children. I cut my beard to mourn for all that I’ve lost.”_

_Bilbo smiled sadly, “You carry a lot of weight on your shoulders. You can let go.”_

_Thorin sighed, “I truly cannot, Bilbo. These are my duties and responsibilities.”_

_Bilbo made a displeased sound but said nothing. The two sat in silence, looking at the river. It was calm, the only sound made by the rustling of leaves. Bilbo had spent his whole life in this calm, but for Thorin, it was a cherished moment._

_Suddenly, Bilbo asked, “Would you ever court me?”_

_Thorin looked as if Bilbo had slapped him. There was a certain fear in his eyes, along with some apprehension. “I cannot.”_

“ _Cannot?” demanded Bilbo, pulling back._

_Thorin sighed, averting his gaze.“No.”_

_Feeling his anger rise, Bilbo stood up and crossed his arms. Glaring at Thorin, he demanded “So what exactly are we doing? Fooling around?”_

_Thorin too was quick to anger. The implication fo Bilbo’s words were not lost to him. Standing up, he looked back at Bilbo with a glare to match his, “I am not using you, if you think so is the case. Have I ever been unfaithful?”_

“ _But you are clearly not interested in making it official, are you?” taunted Bilbo. “What am I supposed to be, your escape?”_

“ _Do you think this is a joke?” He looked like an angry bull ready to charge._

“ _Well, you did say you regretted kissing me!”_

_Thorin threw his hands up in the air,_ _“_ _M_ _ahal, that was last autumn!”_

“ _Doesn’t change a thing!”_

“ _Bilbo you are my One!”_

_That stopped Bilbo. He had heard the word before, or read it maybe, “What does that mean?”_

_Thorin breathed heavily, his eyes fixed on Bilbo. When he spoke, there was a desperation in his voice Bilbo had never heard before. “Dwarves...love only once. We share our heart to only one person throughout our life. Unlike men who can take more than one partner, dwarves are together with only one person.”_

“ _What if you feel affection for someone else?”_

_he shook his head. “We do not. Some never find their One. Others have their craft as their One. But we remain loyal. I am loyal to you, Bilbo Baggins, I am not playing you.”_

_Letting out a sigh, he walked up to Bilbo. Cupping his cheek, Thorin pressed their foreheads together. It might not mean everything to Bilbo, but Thorin was letting himself give in. As much as he could._

“ _But at the same time, my position as a King does not allow me to love out of my race,” Thorin whispered his voice heavy, “I have duties towards my kingdom. I cannot forsake them for the matters of my own heart. I cannot bring a Hobbit as my loved one. The laws do not allow them. And even if they did, my people are rooted in tradition, and so am I. I can remain unmarried, but not go against my traditions. If we have anything, Bilbo, it will never be official.”_

_Bilbo pulled back slightly and looked up into Thorin’s eyes, “I do not care. I will have whatever part of you I can, Thorin. I am sorry for even doubting you.”_

_Thorin smiled sadly, pulling Bilbo close, “I am sorry you have to go through this. Forgive me.”_

_Bilbo snorted. “For what? Loving you? I would rather not. I think I will take the moments that we can have over anything else.”_

_Thorin smiled and leaned to press their foreheads together again. Bilbo relished in the touch. Even if it hurt him, he would happily remain by Thorin’s side for as long as he wanted. He might not understand the hardships or his traditions, but one thing he knew._

_He was completely in love with Thorin Oakenshield._

* * *

“Bilbo!”

“Fili!”

Kili was immediately on Fili, hugging him like a koala. Bofur was hovering over Bilbo. Thorin too had pulled Fili into a hug, before turning to Bilbo.

“Are you okay?”

“I am fine,” snapped Bilbo. He might have fallen, but he had not forgotten how Thorin had behaved. The relief of finding the Company was somehow not greater than his own anger.

But then his eyes fell on Thorin. His face was hidden behind a mask of indifference, but his fists were clenching and unclenching. His shoulders had drooped, and there was a very clear discomfort in the way he stood. Bilbo knew those signs.

“Are you all right?” he asked, concerned.

Thorin looked shocked at being addressed directly but nodded. “I am well.”

“You most certainly are not lad,” Balin said softly, from beside Thorin, “You had an episode, you need to relax.”

“I do not see a place to relax anywhere close,” said Thorin neutrally. “We need to keep moving.”

“Bilbo’s wound was opened,” said Fili, and Bilbo wanted to curse him, “We should not have moved in the first place.”

Thorin looked at Bilbo, his eyes pained. “I apologize for my words, Bilbo. I did not mean them.”

Bilbo snorted, “Yes you did, Thorin. You very well meant each and every word you said. It’s good to know how you feel about Hobbits.”

“I have lived around you for long,” said Thorin, fidgeting, “And I respect you. There were things I did not mean to say. I am truly sorry. Forgive me.”

Bilbo looked at him. Thorin did look remorseful, but that did not take back his words. There was some nasty stuff he had said.

It was then that he noticed every single pair of eyes fixed on the two of them. Thorin had already said his part, and it was up to Bilbo to say the next. Taking a deep breath, Bilbo said, “You know, Thorin, you were right. Hobbit feet are not made for mountains. We haven’t seen as many hardships as you dwarrows have. We love our soil and our ale and our pipes and most importantly, our peace. And I, particularly, have a very cosy home and a very warm fireplace. You are right about all of those things.”

Thorin looked ashamed, but Bilbo pressed on, “But that’s exactly the reason I decided to come with you. Because I have all of that, and you don’t. The place you have good memories of, the place that gave you peace was taken away from you. Your home was lost. But I will help you take it back if I can.”

Each bearded face looked at Bilbo with a small smile. Balin looked close to tears, and Dwalin’s normally hard exterior was softened. Oin and Gloin both smiled sadly, and Ur cousins were lost in their own thoughts as Bilbo continued.

“Most importantly, you do not decide whether I belong with this Company or not. That decision lies upon all of you. You might be their leader, but you don’t speak for all. And unless at least half of you declare that I am unfit to be here, I am staying. So, unfortunately, you are stuck with me.”

At the end of his long rant, tired and absolutely spent, he gave Thorin a smile. A smile full of promise, yet telling him exactly all that he wanted to.

And to his surprise, Thorin smiled back. The ones he reserved for those dreamy nights and sleepy morning. The smile that he wore on their wedding day. Full of wonder and love, and a bit of confusion.

At that moment, Bilbo could pretend, that they were back home, looking at each other in the light of the night. That they had just made up after a fight and were going to have a cup of tea in the kitchen before heading to bed. That everything would be all right.

The howls of wargs broke their moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took AGES! And so did the next few chapters. Honestly, you can expect weekly updates now. I can't work bi-weekly and there's so much to do.
> 
> My summer semester is over and I miss my Creative Writing class :( it was one of the best times I ever had and now I am just ughh! I even wrote a Bagginshield poem for one assignment and people actually liked it! It was awesome! my prof was awesome, my classmates were awesome and now it's all over.  
> But on a brighter note, I have taken tons of online courses. I mean, I am dying under its load so I dunno if it's brighter or not. Huh. 
> 
> So last author's note I said I am up for One-shots. I still am. I am craving to write more Bagginshield or Killel or any damn pairing and trope. Help out a poor woman here, will ya? 
> 
> Anyways, that's about all of my rants. Hit me up to talk anytime, cause I love to do that. Though I have no idea how personal messages work on AO3. Do let me know how you liked this chapter!


	9. Protect you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azog is here....and so are the Eagles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with this, we come to an end for the first half of the story. WOO-HOO, WE MADE IT!!! AAAAH, I can't even tell you how excited I am. this is so super cool AAAAA!
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER. CHECK END NOTES IF YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT

“Out of a frying pan,”

“And into the fire,” said Gandalf. “Run!”

The Company did not need to be told twice. Everybody immediately took off, trying to run as fast as they could. Bilbo allowed himself to limp, but before he could even try, Thorin’s hands had wrapped around his waist and he was being pulled like he weighed nothing.

Bilbo let himself fall completely over Thorin and pulled out his sword, using his one free hand to fight off wargs.

The Company would have had laughs on the funny and weird picture the dwarf and the Hobbit painted had they not been running for their lives.

Everybody came to a stop when Dwalin came to a stop. For in front of them lay nothing, but the end of a pointy cliff. They turned back, to see the wargs coming closer, and the deep fall that waited for them if they took another step.

“Up into the trees!”

The dwarves wasted no moment. Everyone began to climb up the pine trees. Thorin put Bilbo down, looking over bilbo’s head at Fili. The crown prince nodded.

As Thorin began to climb up, Fili pushed Bilbo up and Thorin pulled him up into the tree. Bilbo opened his mouth to protest, but the howl of the wargs made all his words die on his lips.

Thorin and Balin jumped on the tree next to him. The wargs tried to look up, sneering at the dwarves. They all turned to face their master.

“Azog.”

Bilbo’s breath hitched. He looked at the Pale Orc that stood on the top of a stone. One of his hands was a weapon, a hand that probably Thorin had cut off. He was marred with scars.

“It cannot be.”

The Orc pointed at Thorin and said something in the Black Speech. But from the tone, it was clear what he was saying.

He was going to kill Thorin.

The wargs broke into a run as soon as the pale Orc gave his command, breaking the lower branches and uprooting the trees. Bilbo somehow managed to jump from one tree to another. But soon they were all out of trees, hanging on the branches and hanging on for their lives.

It was Gandalf who put a pinecone on fire and threw it at the army. A ring of fire put up a barrier between the wargs and the dwarves. Soon enough, everyone was picking out some pinecones and lighting them up.

Even if they couldn’t fight, they would not lose.

Victory, however, was not something that was in the dwarves’ cards that night it seemed. The tree which held the dwarrows had been uprooted by the wargs, and it began to fall back. Ori was the first one to fall and was saved only by hanging on to Dori’s legs.

Then Dori fell.

Gandalf pushed his stick down. Dori clutched on to it, shouting for Gandalf to save them.

The land was ablaze, but the tree had been uprooted. Everyone was hanging on the thick tree branches for their dear lives.

It was then that Bilbo saw it.

Thorin stood up, straight, unafraid. He walked down the tree trunk, his eyes fixed only on Azog. Like the tale Balin had told, Thorin picked up a thick branch and charged at the Orc.

But he was weak, from his fights, from his tremors, and when Azog attacked he fell. Bilbo watched as Thorin continued to fall and the dwarves around him shouted for him.

He was not thinking clearly. All Bilbo knew was that he could not watch Thorin fall. Not his husband, not his beloved. He was weakened, and his howls of pain made Bilbo cry.

“Thorin.”

Enough was enough. He would not let this Pale Orc destroy his husband once again.

Somewhere Dwalin and Balin were shouting and so were Kili and Fili. But they were not important.

Not at the moment.

The warg threw Thorin away, and Bilbo stood up.

Ignoring the pain in his leg, Bilbo pulled out his sword and charged.

The only upper hand he had was that of surprise, and Bilbo used it well to push the other orc away. He impaled the orc, before tripping and walking right in front of Thorin.

His husband was gone; unfocused, asleep, but Bilbo would protect him as long as he could.

He would die saving Thorin if it came to that.

But it never did, for all the dwarves came charging at the army of orcs. Bilbo took a sigh of relief before running up to Thorin.

“Thorin,” Bilbo cupped the dwarf’s face. His eyes were shut, his breaths ragged. “Thorin, stay awake. You are going to be fine.”

Thorin muttered, his eyes unfocused. Bilbo held on to him, his hands pressed again the sides where the warg had bit Thorin. The injuries were close to his lungs and on his hands.

Bilbo had to stop a sob from escaping. He could not cry in the middle of a battlefield. Thorin had held on to Bilbo, in Rivendell, and he had gotten better.

The Dwarf King would get better too. He had to.

Bilbo did not know how much time had passed when the eagles came. But come they did, and they created havoc on Azog’s army. Bilbo at first watched in fear as the Eagles trampled all over the battlefield, but then they began to pick up the dwarrows, carrying them away safely.

He allowed one of them to pick up Thorin, clutching it tightly. His own exhaustion was catching up him, and so he let the sharp claws pull him away from the land.

Bilbo blinked as he landed on an Eagle’s back. They flew for a long time, through the beautiful starry night into a beautiful sunrise. It was a view to behold, but his heart was lost as he watched Thorin lying limply on an Eagle's claw. Fili and Kili shouted for him, but he moved not an inch.

They flew over mountains, and clouds, and would have carried on. But on a Carrock, they stopped. The Eagles first laid down Thorin and then Gandalf, and then every other member of the Company.

Bilbo immediately rushed to Gandalf’s side as he pushed his hand over Thorin’s face and muttered something.

All that Bilbo could think, continuously, on a loop, was that he would not lose Thorin. He would not.

“Bilbo?”

It was no more than a whisper, just a small whisper. Barely audible over the morning wind, if Bilbo was being truthful. But it was enough to breathe back life into his soul.

Gandalf assured Thorin that the Hobbit was all right, and Bilbo finally let out a sigh of relief. Dwalin and Kili pulled him up, but Thorin, being Thorin, immediately pushed them away, his gaze fixed on the Hobbit.

“You!” Bilbo’s smile fell as Thorin shouted, “What were you doing? You nearly got yourself killed.”

Bilbo blanched at Thorin’s tone. He opened his mouth, and then closed it. Short on temper, full of exhaustion and worry, Bilbo said, “A simple thank you would suffice Thorin!”

Thorin did not seem to listen, "Did you see how you used that sword? How you fought?”

It was a different shame that Bilbo felt course through his veins. Thorin had taught him how to swing a sword, to fight. It felt like he was being scolded by his teacher, rather than being shouted at by his Husband. Which was, well, true enough.

“I have never been prouder in my life.”

Before he knew what was happening, Bilbo was in Thorin’s arms. The dwarrows were laughing and cheering behind them, and Gandalf looked more amused than anything.

Bilbo could feel Thorin holding tightly to him, unwilling to pull away. Bilbo tugged him closer, pressing a small kiss in the Dwarf’s mane. The last few hours- well, the last whole day was a disaster and Bilbo was in no mood to let go.

But they were still in the presence of Thorin’s extended company. Bilbo slowly pushed himself away, looking at Thorin with misty eyes. Thorin too followed, but not before taking a small moment to look at him.

“I am sorry I ever doubted you,” he said in a low voice, and the dwarves paid him no heed, busy slapping each other on the backs. “You have made me truly proud today, Bilbo. Those lessons besides the river were perhaps, not all for nought.”

Bilbo couldn’t help a chuckle. “They were never for nought. You know that.”

The Hobbit had a feeling that the wizard had cast a spell, for the dwarves smiled. They could not have heard whatever it is that Bilbo and Thorin spoke. For that, Bilbo was grateful to the sodding old wizard.

The eagles took flight and Bilbo watched them fly away, as did the dwarrows. He turned to Thorin to ask him to turn, but his words died in his throat. Thorin was staring far away, his eyes wide, his mouth opened in surprise.

Bilbo turned and felt his heart skip a beat. “Is that, what I think it is?”

Thorin said nothing and walked ahead. Bilbo followed, and so did the dwarrows and the wizard. Against the blue, pink and purple sky, on the great horizon, stood a solitary peak. Shrouded in mist, yet standing tall, rising from the land around it. Oh, Bilbo had heard many stories, but watching it, in reality, made him go weak.

“Erebor,” said Gandalf, “the Lonely Mountain, the last of the great Dwarf Kingdoms of Middle Earth.”

“Our home,” said Thorin, looking on. He slowly turned around. To the common eyes, he was addressing his people. But Bilbo knew he was looking at him, and smiled as Thorin said it louder, “Our home.”

A bird chirped in a distance, and everybody turned as Oin began to talk about birds returning to the mountain.

“That my dear Oin,” said Gandalf, a bemused smile on his face, “is a thrush.”

“But we’ll take it as a sign,” said Thorin, looking ahead, “A good omen.”

As he turned to Bilbo, he couldn’t help but nod, “You’re right. I do believe the worst is behind us.”

The dwarrows cheered, and some clapped each other on the back. They turned and began the descent down the mountain. Bilbo was ready to follow, his leg now sore and in a desperate need for a long rest. A hand landed on his shoulder, and Bilbo stopped.

He looked up, eyebrows raised in question. Thorin opened his mouth, then closed it. He opened it again and closed it with a huff.

Bilbo couldn’t understand what Thorin was trying to say or do. He turned to look at dwarrows and saw Balin give a stern glare to Thorin.

Realization dawned on him as Thorin again opened his mouth, Bilbo immediately leaned and said, “You can apologize later. Right now I need to rest.”

Thorin looked down and gasped, his expression pained. But he nodded nevertheless, looking back at Bilbo.

The Hobbit smiled and Thorin smiled in return, before saying, “You were wrong, by the way.”

Bilbo frowned, “About?”

“My home being lost,” Thorin said, “You have already given it back to me.”

* * *

_Another Winter passed, and Thorin was not even trying to hide his excitement. Balin was, of course, the first one to notice and had commented how ‘lively’ Thorin had begun to look. Dwalin went on to beat him in another match, gruffing about how Thorin was ‘weak’ and too ‘scatterbrain’. Even Kili frowned when Thorin let his stupidity slide in the forge._

“ _You could be a little careful, brother.”_

_Thorin raised an eyebrow as Dis handed him the papers. “Everybody is talking that you are far too excited to leave. Rumours are being spread.”_

_Thorin huffed, “And how many believe those rumours?”_

“ _Not enough,” said Dis, “But you cannot keep escaping. I am afraid, you might have to come back early.”_

“ _I have spent away longer, Dis,” said Thorin, “I once had to stay from our people for three years.”_

“ _We were on the road then, Thorin,” said Dis seriously, “We now have a kingdom. Even if it isn’t our home, we have a place to live, a job and something to eat.”_

“ _And with that comes Politics,” huffed Thorin, “Weren’t you the one who told me to find a way to my heart?”_

_Dis waved her hand as if dismissing it completely, “That was last year. I have grown since then.”_

_Thorin could only huff out a laugh._

“ _And anyway, whoever your One is has made you a lot more bearable,” Dis said with an eye roll, her beard swaying with her head, “I mean, you did not even shout when Dwalin caught Nori again.”_

“ _Dwalin is always imprisoning Nori. It is a routine by now.”_

“ _Careful, brother. that’s all I can say.”_

_Thorin just nodded. He knew that last Summer was a blissful time that could not always be, but he would relish whatever time he could._

_When Thorin arrived at the Shire, he did not even bother to stop by his forge. He had already greeted the Thain, and except looking a little ill, there was no change in teh old Hobbit. Thorin made his way to Bag End, ready to meet Bilbo._

_What greeted him, however, was an extremely muddled looking Bilbo who looked like he could fall at any moment. He had lost much more weight and there were heavy bags under his eyes._

“ _Bilbo?”_

_The Hobbit, who was frozen at the spot, blinked out of his stupor. His face twisted into something, and Bilbo fell in Thorin’s arms immediately._

_For the first time, Thorin watched Bilbo cry. He dropped his satchel and pulled the Hobbit close. It was a sound that Thorin never wanted to hear again._

“ _Bilbo,” Thorin rumbled, pulling Bilbo away, “What happened? What is going on?”_

_Bilbo sniffed, wiping away his eyes, “Sorry, oh dear, I am so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. It must be-”_

“ _Bilbo,” Thorin said sternly. Bilbo shut up, looking up at Thorin with misty eyes. “What happened?”_

_Bilbo hiccuped, “Mu-Mum.”_

_Thorin followed the Hobbit into his house. He was shocked to see Belladonna Baggins lying on her bed, her face as pale as snow. Her breath was coming out shallower. Her eyes were barely open, if open at all._

“ _Bilbo?” came a whisper from the old Hobbit._

“ _It’s Thorin, mum,” Bilbo said, trying to sound stronger than he felt._

_Belladonna turned her head slightly, looking at Thorin. “Mr Oakenshield.”_

“ _Mrs Baggins,” Thorin slowly bowed, before going close to the old Hobbit, “How do you feel?”_

“ _Oh, I have never been better,” Belladonna chuckled, before breaking out into fits of cough. Bilbo was immediately by her side. Belladonna raised her hand to cup her son’s face and smile, “Bilbo worries a lot.”_

“ _Shush, you!” said Bilbo, “Thorin, could you stay here for a while? I will just get her medicine.”_

_Thorin did not even need to be told twice. He sat down beside Belladonn’s bed and began to talk of his people, trying to distract the old Hobbit. For her part, Belladonna smiled and nodded, responding with as much enthusiasm as she could._

_When Bilbo came in with medicinal tea, Thorin helped Belladonna sit up._

_There was no doubt in what he had to do. He opened his shop only for an hour every day and all but moved into Bag End. Despite Bilbo’s protests, Thorin began to help him into housework and in taking care of Belladonna. His talents in the kitchen were very basic, so he left Bilbo to do that._

_Every morn, Thorin would wake up first and put on the kettle for water to boil. He would then check over Belladonna, who would hopefully be still sleeping. If not, he would help her into the bathroom and move on to wake Bilbo. As Bilbo would fix the first meals, Thorin would rush to the Healer who was overseeing Belladonna, to report her progress. He would then have a meal with the Bagginses, before opening his forge for up till lunch. When he would return, he would send Bilbo to rest after lunch and keep Belladonna engaged or let her sleep. When Bilbo would wake up, they would both work and talk._

“ _It’s the winter,” the Healer had whispered to him, “She lost her dear Bungo last time. I don’t think Bella would recover, truly. She has been holding on only for her son.”_

_Everyone held the same belief. Even Belladonna believed she would not make it through the season. But Bilbo held on, stubborn to get his mother better._

_Admanta Took, Belladonn’s mother, had begun to regularly visit Bag End. At first, she was a bit wary of Thorin, but then seeing him work tirelessly for her own child’s family she softened down. Thorin liked the older Hobbit a lot- she made Bilbo eat, which Thorin himself could never do. She made sure that everyone was well-rested and helped Thorin without an ounce of judgement._

_People began to visit Belladonna, and it was on one of those visits that Gandalf came trotting in. Thorin and tharkun looked at each other in shock for a long moment, before Thorin bowed slightly. The wizard gave out an amused laugh and bowed back. He then moved on to greet Bilbo and Belladonna with as much vigour as an old friend could._

_It was on one of those days when the extended Took and Baggins family had come over to visit Belladonna. Admanta had retired, taking Bilbo with her. She and Belladonna had exchanged a very tight hug, which Thorin did not even want to decipher._

_He stayed behind after dinner, reading one of the books from the Baggin’s collection. Though he was not a scholarly dwarf, Thorin found himself fascinated by hobbit’s fascination with flowers and soil._

“ _Thorin,” Belladonna said softly._

_Thorin looked over his books. “Yes, Mrs Baggins? Do you need anything?”_

_Belladonna shook her head, “Just sit by my side, would you? All that reading is giving me a headache.”_

_Nodding, Thorin put down the book and pulled closer to Belladonn’s bed. He did not dare say it, but she did look a bit better._

_Belladonna pulled his hand into her own and smiled. “I know that my age might be lesser than yours, but I am still older.”_

_Thorin smiled, nodding slightly, “I am not even going to contest that. Hobbits, I have realized, are as stubborn as dwarrows.”_

_Belladonna chuckled slightly. She patted Thorin’s calloused hands and looked up. Taking a deep breath, she said, “My time has come, Thorin, and I know that my dear Bungo waits for me.”_

_Thorin said nothing. He knew she spoke the truth._

“ _Can you promise me something?”_

_He took in a deep breath. “Anything, Mrs Baggins, I will try my best.”_

“ _Take care of my Bilbo, would you?” she said with a knowing smile, “He is smitten by you, and would marry you at once if given the chance.”_

_Thorin chuckled, “I will try. I will come back as often as I can.”_

_Belladonna smiled. “That’s not what I meant, Thorin. Bilbo told me, him being your One. I know what that means.”_

_Thorin sighed. Belladonna was a smart woman, of course, she would know the secrets of dwarves. Furthermore, she was friends with Gandalf._

“ _I cannot take him with me or give what he deserves. I will still try to be there for him.”_

“ _Give him all of you while you can,” said Belladonna, “Bilbo doesn’t care about grand things. He has all the family here. All he wants is you.”_

“ _Even if it did, I cannot marry him. I doubt even your Hobbits would allow that.”_

_Belladonna hummed, “You do not need to worry about that. Tell me, do you truly love Bilbo?”_

_Thorin turned grave.“Of course.”_

“ _What would you do for him?” asked Belladonna seriously._

“ _If I could, I would spend the rest of my life with him by my side,” Thorin answered truthfully, “I would dedicate every moment to take care of him.”_

“ _Then do it. Stay by his side”_

_Thorin huffed. He wanted to. He truly wanted to spend the rest of his life with Bilbo. But if Dis was right, which she always was, he could not spend a very long time away from his kingdom. His people would begin to suspect, and Thorin would rather die than let any harm come over his beloved._

“ _Do you like to cook?”_

_Unsure at the sudden change in conversation, Thorin remained frozen in his seat, Finally, he said, “I cannot cook as well as you or Bilbo.”_

“ _But do you cook?” pressed Belladonna._

_Thorin nodded.“Aye.”_

“ _And how’s your memory?”_

_Pushing down the instinct that told him to be offended, Thorin said, “Well enough.”_

“ _Hmm,” Belladonna smiled, “Then keep this recipe I am about to tell you in your mind. Bilbo might need it one day.”_

_And Thorin listened. He made sure to listen to all the herbs and vegetables that Belladonna Baggins mentioned and made note of all the tips and tricks she told him._

_The next day, Bilbo spent the whole day with his mother. She was sitting, laughing and Thorin, knowing what was to come, giving them space._

_The very next day, Belladonna Baggins passed away._

* * *

The Company somehow managed to make their way down the Carrock with Bilbo limping. Thorin immediately took over the position of leader, guiding his people and looking for shelter. Fili and Kili, once again, took over Bilbo’s responsibility. This time, however, even Bofur and Ori joined in and Bilbo soon had his own group of caretakers.

They managed to hide from the Warg packs and run long enough, but Bilbo’s wounds were getting worse. Oin deemed it necessary for Bilbo to rest for at least a week before they move. It was getting redder, and the dwarves could not carry him any longer. Furthermore, Nori saw a huge Bear on his scouts and it had the whole Company worried out of their mind.

“There is a house,” said Gandalf on the third day as the dwarrows made camp with little of what they had left. “It’s not far from here, where we might take refuge.”

“Whose house?” demanded Thorin, worried out of his mind, “Are they friend or foe?”

“Neither,” answered Gandalf, “He will help us or he will kill us,”

That did not lift anybody’s spirits. The idea of a real shelter, however, was appealing enough.

So off they took, Bilbo on Thorin’s back. He would have usually complained, but his legs hurt and Bilbo was not going to pass up an opportunity to be close to his Husband.

Just as the Company reached their destination, the warg scouts found their trail. As if that wasn’t enough, the bear from before came running to them. The last hour, they spent running across plains and trees, and the sight of a house had never looked better.

The house was huge, and the dwarves, in fear, were trying to break open the door. They barely managed to get in after Thorin put Bilbo on the ground and pulled open the latch. The bear almost got into the house but was pushed out only by the combined strengths of all dwarrows.

It was Ori who asked, “What is that?”

Gandalf looked at the closed door, and then at the scared company. “That is our host.”

Bilbo was sure their life had become a joke.

“His name is Beorn,” said Gandalf, looking very amused, “And he’s a skin-changer. Sometimes he is a big black bear, and sometimes he is a big strong man. The bear is unpredictable, but the man can be reasoned with. However, he is not overfond of Dwarves.”

The news did not calm anyone down. However, when everybody lay down on the haystack, Oin looked over Bilbo’s leg.

“We have to get some help, Gandalf,” said Oin, “Some herbs. This is a lasting injury.”

“You think so?” Bilbo bit out, screaming in pain.

Gandalf huffed, looking at the wound. “It was a poisoned arrow. I should have known.”

“The Elves were supposed to heal him,” said Thorin, looking very displeased.

“And they did,” said Gandalf, “if Lord Elrond had not treated Bilbo, he would not have been alive right now.”

The Thought was enough to shut everyone up. Bilbo stayed up for most of the night, vaguely away of Thorin sitting beside him. At the point of having finally given up, Bilbo did not even try to hide the fact that he was inching closer to Thorin.

For his part, Thorin did not try to push him away either. Instead, he held on to him as Fili and Kili talked about this many escapades. They stayed up like that all through the night, sleep only coming to Bilbo once the Sun was up.

When Bilbo next opened his eyes, a large man was looking over him in interest. Bilbo screamed and tried to back off, but Bofur held him back.

“Hey, stay put Bilbo!” said Bofur, “That’s Master Beorn. This is his house.”

The big man frowned, “You are like a little bunny. Don’t worry, I do not hurt animals.”

That did not ease Bilbo’s nerves, but it sure got chuckles out of all the Dwarrows present there.

“You should not have journeyed,” said Beron, looking at Bilbo’s wound, “It needs time to heal more.”

“How long would it take?” asked Thorin. Bilbo blinked, realizing all dwarrows were looking at Beorn and Oin.

“At least a week,” said Oin, “With the herbs that Master Beorn has provided, Master Baggins would be as fit as a fiddle soon enough.”

“Stay here till then,” said Beorn, “I don’t like Dwarves, but Orcs I hate more. Whatever you need, I will help.”

“For that, we have your thanks,” said Balin.

Beorn nodded. “Where do you journey to?”

“The Lonely Mountain,” said Gandalf, ignoring the glares the dwarves gave him, “We have worked there.”

Beorn made a displeased sound at that. “You plan to march to the mountain?”

Thorin nodded, looking at Beorn, “It’s our rightful home.”

Beorn grunted, “I did not contest otherwise. But I think you will find the Mountain is not unoccupied.”

The mood shifted in the room. Bilbo felt his heartbeat fasten, and every dwarf looked like somebody had told them that Thorin had died.

“As we had expected, but hoped was untrue,” Balin said with a sigh, “Thank you, Master Beorn, for confirming our suspicions.”

Beorn nodded, “You need to be prepared for what comes next.”

And just like that, the Company found a new place to inhabit for the time being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF DEATH, ACTUAL DEATH (THOUGH NOT GRAPHIC) AND ANGST
> 
> Okay, so we are officially done with An unexpected Journey. Now, we move on to the Desolation of Smaug. Yikes, I always hate middle parts, though this one is not particularly bad. Now, we will come face to face with some new changes and trust me, our poor dwarrows are not ready. The next chapter is one of my favourites and I hope you will enjoy it too. till then, Asta-La-Vista!


	10. Bask in your Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin's Company is up to something...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a lot of fluff and some angst  
> This chapter also does not contain any flashbacks

  
Thorin could count the number of times he was asked to have a word with Balin in private. They were never about anything good. Most of the time, it would be Balin shredding his ideas into pieces or giving him a scolding in his sweet and polite tone.

Those were the worst.

That is why, when Balin approached Thorin on the third day of their stay at Beorn’s and asked to have a ‘private word’ with him, Thorin was scared. There was no other word to describe what he felt- He. Was. Scared.

The past few days had been nothing short of a nightmare. He could count the number of things Balin would want to talk to him about- him losing his temper at Bilbo, his episode, running off to fight Azog alone. He could trace it back to his behaviour at Rivendell, but as far as he could guess that was not something very scandalous.

So with a heavy heart, Thorin followed his advisor to the barn behind the huge house. The door was opened and Thorin stopped in his tracks.

Inside stood Dwalin, Oin and Gloin. The way all the four dwarrows stood, Balin included, reminded Thorin harshly of his childhood in Erebor. He could almost pretend to be in Erebor. Both Thorin’s siblings and him, Oin and Gloin having come to visit them, Balin and Dwalin with a few of their cousins, a few of Dis’ playmates who were close to family- all gathered together in a small courtroom to plan something large and devious.

Fili and Kili might be bad, but they truly did not have anything over the mischief the Durins, all of them, got into when they were young.

Thorin somehow managed to calm himself down and stepped forward, facing his cousins. “What is the matter? You all look terribly worried.”

“We are,” Gloin nodded seriously, “Aye, we are.”

Balin sighed, “It’s about Bilbo.”

Thorin braced himself. If he was to be scolded like a dwafling, he would take it with as much integrity as he could.

“To be quite frank,” continued Balin, “our Hobbit is quite in love with you.”

Thorin blinked owlishly. That was not what he was expecting.

“I beg your pardon?”

“And you are in love with him,” said Dwalin in his booming voice. Thorin whipped his head to his shield-brother, blinking more furiously, “It’s exhausting to watch the two of you.”

“What?” Thorin squeaked, and if asked he would never admit that his voice got so high.

“Aye,” said Gloin, sitting down on a stack of hay that still ended up being too large for him. Huffing, Gloin said, “Don’t think we haven’t noticed. Bilbo keeps stealing glances at you. Has been doing so since the night we met.”

“I am sure he was going to claim you right when we were discussing the quest,” Oin said, extremely amused at the idea, “From what I understand hobbits are not very private people. Made sense.”

Thorin tried his best to hide the blush that was threatening to appear on his cheeks.

“And it isn’t like you are any better,” said Dwalin, “You put down your sword when you knew we could have taken down those Trolls. You panicked when we were at the Tree-shaggers. And everybody saw you carrying Bilbo the last night we were there.”

“I was trying to find Gandalf and happened to run into him. It was no more than a coincidence.”

He knew nobody believed that, judging by the huffing and the knowing smiles being exchanged around.

Oin shook his head, “Laddie, you might be our King, but you are our cosuin first. We know you. Don’t try and fool us now.”

“Love is a fickle thing, my boy,” Balin said with a knowing and understanding smile, “And it is wise to often acknowledge it. Do not let it pass into nothingness.”

“What?”

Dwalin huffed, “Talk to the Hobbit. If I have to handle you and him making mooning eyes at each one more day, I might as well just kill someone. Anyways, you two are perfect for each other. Stubborn, strong-headed- the only folly that he probably has is that he does everything extremely. Same as you. A match made by Mahal.”

Thorin shook his head. Bilbo was right, his family were smarter than he gave them credit for. And perhaps, he was less careful that he thought.

“It’s not like that,” Thorin tried once again, but Balin cut him off immediately.

“Bilbo told me you made his weapons. No dwarf makes weapons just for someone.”

“It was for work!”

“Thorin,” growled Dwalin, “Fili and Kili have been planning some very creative ways to get you and the hobbit close. If you do not talk to him soon, I might just allow the lads to do whatever they want.”

Thorin shuddered at the idea. His nephews’ ideas never ended well.

“Even if I admitted that there was something,” Thorin said gritting his teeth, “You forget. I am a King. He is a Hobbit. What then?”

All four dwarves shut up. Though he knew he had won, Thorin felt dread. This was what he was always worried about. This is where he knew his family would step back.

“Well,” Balin finally said, “We are on a quest, and it is not improbable to seek out someone’s affections. Bilbo is a smart lad, and I must say he has become very dear to me in a short amount of time. I do not want his heart to be broken.”

“Tell him the truth,” said Dwalin, “Tell him about what yer position holds, about what you can do and what you cannot. If he still wants you, it’s all good and enough.”

Oin stretched, nodding, “Well, I must be off. Got to look over the poor lad’s feet. Think about it Thorin.”

Gloin nodded and followed his brother, almost tumbling down and falling over. As they walked out, Dwalin gave one glare to Thorin and walked out, muttering ‘foolish lovers’ under his breath.

Thorin looked at Balin, who was smiling serenely.

“Balin,” started Thorin, “you are both my royal advisor and my friend. Tell me, truly, what do you think.”

Balin let out a loud sigh and walked up to Thorin. “As your Royal Advisor, I would suggest that this whole thing is foolish. You are a king and the only people you can give your heart to is either your One or a good Dam who could be the future queen. Trying to play with a Halfling’s feeling is very unwise.”

“However, as your friend, I am going to advise you to go seek him out. He truly loves you laddie, and I know you do too. Everybody in the company knows about it, except perhaps the two of you. You have known him for years, and knowing you you have probably hidden all those feelings for a long time. It’s all right to let go for a while, Thorin.”

Thorin sighed, his shoulders drooping. “I am afraid that if I give in, Balin, I would never be able to give Bilbo up.”

Balin sighed, “You’ll have to be strong laddie. You have to. If you weren’t a King and of Durin’s line, this would have perhaps never been a problem. All we are trying to do here is ask you to seek out your happiness, Thorin, no matter how temporary.”

Then, Balin’s smile slipped and he looked grave, “But do not use him either. As I said, I have grown terribly fond of Bilbo in the past few months that we have travelled together and I would rather not have his heartbreak.”

With a last pat on Thorin’s shoulder, Balin left Thorin alone with his thoughts.

* * *

Beorn’s house was nice- there were milk and honey, there were animals and some delicious fruits and if Bilbo closed his eyes, he could just pretend he was in the Shire.

“Kili! Come back here you insolent brat!”

If the Shire was filled with his Husband’s family, that is.

Letting out a deep sigh, Bilbo opened his eyes and peeped over his shoulder to see Kili running around holding what looked like Ori’s notebook. Nori was chasing the younger Durin prince all around the house. It was almost evening and there was no chance that Ori was going to draw anything anytime soon, but Kili could create havoc just to create havoc.

Bofur chuckled from beside Bilbo and the Hobbit found himself smiling as Nori all but jumped on Kili and tried to wrestle the notebook out of Kili's hands. Every other dwarf was having a laugh. It was a slow night- they weren’t going to worry about food or safety.

As long as Bofur and Bombur did not start one of their pub songs, Bilbo believed it was a fine night.

“I tell ya, Nori is as much of a child as Kili,” laughed Bofur, “He never grew up. Teasing Dwalin, stealing – it’s like he wants to get into trouble.”

Bilbo huffed, “He sounds like the type.”

“He stole so many valuable from the Tree-shaggers,” said Bofur, “The Goblin King thought we were working for Elves.”

Bilbo couldn’t stop his laugh at that. The day Elves and Dwarrows worked together would be a day to mark.

He was relishing the calmness when his eyes landed on the rising moon. It was a full moon.

Memories of late-night walks and stolen moments were threatening to make him nostalgic. Bilbo looked around, but Thorin was nowhere to be found. Everybody was retiring inside the house, ready to get dinner. Nori had finally left Kili alone, and Fili was trying to make his younger brother laugh as he pouted.

“Uh-hm, Bilbo?”

It was as if Eru had heard his prayers. Bilbo looked up from his place, “Yes, Thorin?”

The dwarf looked nervous, judging by the way how still his hands were. He was looking at Bilbo with a number of emotions- many that the Hobbit himself could not identify.

“May we talk in private?”

Kili and Fili shared a mischievous glance. Bilbo raised an eyebrow but nodded nevertheless. Thorin held out his hand and Bilbo pulled himself up. Bofur handed him the stick that Beorn had procured for him. He gave a knowing glance to Thorin before calling the boys up and disappearing inside the house.

Thorin helped Bilbo move some distance away from the door. Once they were at a respectable distance, Thorin pulled back and turned to face Bilbo.

They stood in silence for some very long minutes. Thorin continued to look down, probably collecting his thoughts. Confused, Bilbo said, “Are you going to speak?”

At his words, Thorin stood firm, as he did in front of the dwarrow. It scared Bilbo to some extent because Thorin had never been that formal with him.

It was the movement of his hands that caught Bilbo’s attention.

Thorin was, again and again, gesturing towards the door. From the corner of his eyes, Bilbo saw the door move slightly as if a great weight was being pushed against it. On the window, he could see the top of Bofur’s hat.

“Balin,” began Thorin, in a very loud and clear voice, “and some of the others, have brought to my notice that you might...share my affections.”

Bilbo blinked, “I beg your pardon?”

“They told me that you feel as deeply for me as I do for you,” he said slowly. As the words finally sunk in, Bilbo had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop laughing.

The Company had found out. Of course, they had found out.

“Is it true?”

Bilbo understood that Thorin was saying it for the Dwarrows, who had no doubt put wagers on them already. He could see the small turn of his lips and Bilbo allowed himself to play along.

“He...might not be wrong.”

Thorin nodded, stepping closer. Bilbo felt his heart beat faster. They hadn’t truly been this close in front of the dwarves; the Carrock did not count.

It almost felt like Thorin was acknowledging him in front of his family.

“My position as a King does not allow me to love out of my race,” Thorin whispered, much like he had a long time ago. Bilbo knew he was saying it for them, but he still couldn’t help feel despair, “If we...have anything, Bilbo, it will never be official.”

Bilbo looked up into Thorin’s eyes, and he knew that Thorin was lying. Yet the words hurt. So Bilbo smiled and stepped up. And like all those years ago, he said, “I do not care.”

With that, he clasped the Dwarf King’s collars and pulled him into a kiss. The dwarves inside burst into cheers, ad he could vaguely hear some pouches being exchanged.

When they pulled apart, Bilbo couldn’t stop the smile from his face. “Balin told you?”

Thorin whispered, “I am actually not sure what that conversation was. Balin, Dwalin, Oin and Gloin all were very in favour of me telling you.”

Bilbo let out a chortle, “I told you, didn’t I?”

Thorin sighed, “Yes you did.”

Rubbing their noses, Bilbo whispered, “I am never letting you live this down. I hope you realize that.”

Resigning himself to his fate, Thorin nodded, “Yes, _Ghivashel_.”

Bilbo blushed under the endearment but tugged Thorin’s braid. “Come on, pretty face, now that your family has accepted that you are hopelessly in love with me, let’s take a walk.”

Ignoring the hoots and cheers from inside the house, Bilbo pulled Thorin away into a more secluded corner of the house.

The moonlight was illuminating, and Bilbo found a nice spot for the couple near the tomato bushes. He sat down on the ground, content and pulled Thorin down as well.

“Well, tell me everything,” said Bilbo.

And Thorin told him everything from the beginning. Bilbo was not sure whether to hide his face in embarrassment or laugh out at the Dwarrows’ keen eyes, so he decided to do a little of both.

“I told you!” Bilbo said as Thorin finished, “You are the only dim wit in the whole family.”

At Thorin’s affronted face, Bilbo said, “It’s a good thing you have a pretty face. And a very nice body.”

Despite himself, Thorin found himself smiling. “I should have known you had only married me for my looks.”

“As if that was a secret!” huffed Bilbo.

Thorin just laughed and pulled Bilbo close. Bilbo was not complaining as he nestled into Thorin’s arms.

It had been too long. Far too long.

“Bilbo?”

“Hmm?”

“I am sorry.”

Neither of them needed to say what they were talking about. Letting out a sigh, Bilbo pulled back to look at Thorin’s face. He was not meeting Bilbo’s eyes, instead looking down at his hands.

“You know I am never going to forget what you said,” Bilbo said in a slow voice.

“I know.”

“That was absolutely uncalled for, Thorin.”

“Yes, it was.”

“If you had told me, or anyone that you weren’t well we would have helped. But that is not an excuse for what you said.”

“I know.”

Huffing, Bilbo shook his head, “I was angry. I still am. But then you almost died. I don’t know what to do.”

Thorin finally looked up. “Forgive me, please.”

Bilbo sighed, “I will try. But no promises.”

Thorin nodded. He knew it was more than what he deserved, but allowed himself to be. Whenever Bilbo would decide whatever he wanted to do, Thorin would accept his punishment.

“I was thinking,” Thorin finally said, “about us.”

Bilbo raised an eyebrow, “What about us?”

“You were right,” said Thorin, “I was foolish to think my people would ever truly accept you. Though the Company has accepted you, not everyone would.”

Bilbo just nodded. He had known what his place was- and it wasn’t to say that he had given in peacefully. There were some nasty fights that Bilbo could live without remembering.

“So once Erebor is reclaimed, I will hand over the Crown to Fili.”

Bilbo’s head whipped faster than the speed of light, and he almost craned his neck in the process. “I am sorry, what?”

Thorin did not look as if he was joking, “He will not be alone. Kili, Balin, Dis when she arrives- they would all help him.”

“He is a boy!” Bilbo shook his head, “Thorin, Fili is a boy!”

“I will have you know that he is a grown dwarf.”

Bilbo huffed, “Grown Dwarf he may be, but he carries too much on his shoulders. You, Thorin, I have come to accept. But for him? Let the poor boy breathe, would you?”

“He is the prince of Erebor-”

“So were you!” cut in Bilbo, “What were you, fifty? A child yourself when both your grandfather and father were gone, leaving behind the responsibility of a whole kingdom, which did not even have a place to live! Would you wish the same for your nephew?”

His silence was all the answer Bilbo needed.

“I wish to have you by my side, Ghivashel.”

Sighing, Bilbo once again nestled himself completely into Thorin’s arms, “All right, how about this? I will stay in Erebor- or the nearby men’s town. Help you grow things around the mountain. Once Fili is ready to take over, we will elope.”

Thorin’s chest was shaking with laughter, and Bilbo looked up with a smile. “We will go to Gondor and Rohan, and oh! We could visit the Elves.”

“Haven’t you already visited the Elves?” Thorin asked disdainfully.

“Those are different!” pressed Bilbo, “The Elves that I am talking about live in the forests of-”

“Can we not discuss _Elves_ when we have finally gotten time alone?”

Bilbo huffed but complied nevertheless. “Fine. What would you have me do otherwise?”

Thorin pulled Bilbo on his lap, earning a squeak from the Hobbit. As he nuzzled into the Hobbit’s neck, Thorin said, “I can think of a few things.”

“Thorin! Not in the open!”

“Would you rather display our ‘affections’ in front of the others?”

“Thorin! There, well, there is a bedroom.”

“I am not bedding you on Beorn’s bed.”

“But it’s so soft! And my leg’s hurt, shall I remind you.”

“You, Bilbo Baggins, are a menace.”

“I am your menace, dear.”

* * *

The next morning dawned clear and fresh over Beorn’s house. The dwarves awoke to milk and bread- and after days of travelling on travel meals and _Elvish_ food, nobody was complaining. It was a pity that there was no meat, but Beorn was clear that he would not harm animals.

Kili was the first one to notice the missing members of the Company on the breakfast table. Grinning at the idea, he poked his brother.

Despite it being early, Fili’s braids were perfectly in order. Though he was still pretty sleepy.

“What?” he demanded, a tad bit irritated.

Kili turned to him with a grin, not even bothering to lower his voice, “Uncle and Bilbo are missing!”

Everybody stopped doing whatever they were doing. They looked around, hoping to find Bilbo and Thorin, but they were instead missing from the breakfast table.

“Finally!” said Bofur with a grin, “Our dear Bilbo must be getting some very important lessons on Dwarvish stealth, aye?”

The whole table burst out in loud laughter.

“Oh be kind!” Balin scolded, “They have just finally accepted their feelings. Perhaps they just spent all night talking.”

“Aww, ever so romantic!” Gloin chortled, “I am willing to bet that they spent the night doing much more than talking, aye.”

“Better did,” grumbled Dwalin, “At least they wouldn’t be looking at each other anymore like someone killed their goats.”

“I thought they were pretty romantic,” said Ori, smiling as Dori nodded in agreement, “Bilbo and Thorin were being impossible at times.”

“Yes, even my poor dear Ori got sick of watching them,” huffed Dori, “Who were they trying to fool anyway. I bet Mr Baggins took around Mr Oakenshield all around that Elvish place.”

Kili laughed, “if you want to bet something Mr Dori, bet on what the two of them were up to last night.”

Fili was smiling, but looked a little apprehensive, “I am not sure I want an answer to that question.”

Nori, was silent up till then, leaned forward and wiggled his eyebrows, “Scared of what you will see, dear Prince? Well, I think there is no need for bets, truly. Mr Baggins and our dear King retired to the chamber late at night, if you know what I mean.”

Another round of laughter took over the table. Bombur almost fell back but was barely helped by Bifur before they burst out laughing again. Balin looked scandalized but was smiling nevertheless.

It was as if on cue that the sound of a stick hitting the floor was heard. Everybody turned to see from where Bilbo came trotting in.

“About time,” muttered Dwalin, ready to drink his milk when Bilbo came into view. The older dwarf immediately choked on whatever he had dared to drink.

Bilbo had already bathed and was dressed. But having lost much of his things in the Goblin caves, he was not covered completely. Because of that, it wasn’t hard to notice the bruises littering along his neck. Their colours varied, from purple to fresh red, all throbbing across Bilbo’s neck.

Every dwarf’s mouth was hanging open, except perhaps Kili who had covered his mouth to stop laughing.

Bilbo for his part looked scandalized, but muttered a good morning and seated himself beside Balin, trying to avoid looking anyone in the eye.

It would have mostly worked, had Kili reigned his mouth.

“A good night, Mr Boggins?”

If possible, Bilbo was flushing even redder at the implications. Once again, the Dwarves on the table began to laugh and make obscene jokes. Bilbo was trying his best to hide completely under the table.

“I bet Uncle was rough.”

“Kili!”

“Did you even get a wink of sleep Bilbo? Some of them look pretty fresh.”

“Bofur, shut up!”

“Good morning.”

A deep voice brought all the dwarves out of their teasing ideas. The laughter disappeared immediately. But it was hardly for the reason one might expect.

If Kili had thought that Bilbo was bad, then Thorin was truly a sight to behold. Despite his hair and beard covering a lot of him, the marks around his neck were hard to miss. Furthermore, Thorin wore a simple tunic, and not much was left to the imagination.

Fili groaned, hiding his face in his hands. He mumbled, “I said I did not want to know the answer. Why Mahal?”

Kili and Bofur were busy gaping at Bilbo, who was flustered but looked proud of all that he had done. Balin looked like he was regretting his actions to get Thorin and Bilbo together, but Dwalin, Oin and Gloin were all doubling up in laughter.

Thorin ignored them, taking his seat and eating the breakfast. When Gandalf came in to see the dwarves varying from being shocked to laughing their asses off, he frowned. But then his eyes landed on Thorin and Bilbo, and he sighed knowingly.

“Bilbo Baggins, your mother would be truly proud of you.”

“GANDALF!”

* * *

"Your relatives are worse than mine.”

Thorin shook with laughter, “All I can say is, I told you so.”

Bilbo huffed, running his hands through his curls. “And Gandalf is no better!”

“Of course he isn’t,” said Thorin, braiding his own hair, “It’s Gandalf.”

The Hobbit couldn’t help but nod. “Are they going to be this impossible forever?”

Looking up from his work, Thorin frowned, “Not always. But for a long long time, yes. As long as we are here? Definitely.”

Bilbo groaned and buried his head in his hands. “Oh Green lady, save me from the creation of your Husband.”

Laughing at his Husband’s dramatics, Thorin pulled himself close to Bilbo and ran a hand through bilbo’s hair. “I wish I could braid your hair again.”

Bilbo peaked out from his hands. “Can’t you?”

“If any of them see you with the braids, there will be a war.”

Huffing, Bilbo pulled out a small box from his clothes. Thorin’s eyes widened as he saw the beads that Thorin had made for Bilbo.

“Just braid them already,” said Bilbo, “I will open them when we have to go inside.”

“You have been carrying these all this while?” asked Thorin, his voice no more than a mere whisper.

Bilbo frowned, “Of course I have. Haven’t you been carrying my ribbon?”

“Well, yes-”

“So?” Bilbo huffed, “My hair is too long anyway. Braid it for me, would you?”

Thorin smiled, before pulling Bilbo in fro a quick kiss, “I love you Bilbo Baggins.”

Bilbo hummed, throwing his arms around Thorin, “I love you too, you big oaf. Now braid my hair so that I can enjoy them for a while.”

* * *

Though he might take after his deceased father in looks, Fili was perceptive like his mother. He noticed things. He knew that Bilbo cared excessively for him and his brother, and it truly warmed his heart. He knew that Nori might have a small crush on Dwalin- but then, everybody except Dwalin seemed to know that. He knew that Balin was as coarse as the rest of them, even if he hid it well.

So when the sun disappeared, and Kili remained silent, Fili knew that something was very wrong with his brother.

Only that morning he was teasing Bilbo and making fun of everything that Thorin and Bilbo were getting up to. Mahal, he did not want to know what they were getting up but he wasn’t a pebble anymore.

Yet, Kili’s silence either meant that he was planning something huge or that he was very worried. It had to be the second option, for if Kili was planning something fili would have been brought up to notice.

Before dinner began, Fili pulled his brother aside and crossed his arms.

“Out with it.”

“What?” Kili tried to be nonchalant, but he was the most expressive dwarf to live.

“Something’s bothering you,” said Fili, “Something big. What is it?”

Kili played with the hem of his tunic as he waited for his brother to speak up. He knew better than to force him to speak up.

“Can you recognize the marriage bead?”

That...was not what Fili was expecting.

“Yes. Yes, I can.”

Nodding, Kili pulled out a bead from one of his pockets and handed it over. Fili looked carefully at the small copper bead.

It was very small- smaller than anything he had seen. But the runes were visible and it was a marriage bead.

“Is it? A marriage bead?”

Fili looked at Kili. “Yes. Where did you get this?”

Instead of answering, Kili turned aghast. “How could he do it? I never expected that! Oh, how can he be so cruel? Do you think he even knows what it means?”

“Kili!” Fili said sternly. Kili went quiet, but his lip was wobbling and he looked ready to cry. Softening his stance, Fili lay a hand on Kili’s shoulder. “Nadadith, what is it?”

Looking over their shoulders, Kili pressed close and whispered, “I took the bead from Bilbo.”

“Bilbo?”

Nodding, Kili continued, “I saw Thorin braiding his hair today. I was on a tree- I don’t think they noticed me. I didn’t realize what braid it was, and they were speaking too quietly for me to hear really, but then I saw this bead. Bilbo opened it before they got in but...I couldn’t understand. So I snuck in and saw this- there were others too. One marking him a family of Durin, other naming him a dwarf-friend. I, I don’t know Fili! Why would Uncle do it?”

Fili, for his part, was frozen. Thorin and Bilbo had just accepted their feelings the day before and now...either Thorin had lost his mind and he was being unbelievably cruel.

“We can ask him.”

Kili’s eyes widened, “Are you joking? Thorin would kill us both!”

“He won’t,” Fili said firmly, though he shared Kili’s sentiments. “After dinner, we confront Thorin.”

Kili whimpered but nodded nevertheless. Fili handed the bead back to Kili who pocketed it. The two brothers walked out to the dinner table in sync.

The mood was calm, and Bofur and Bombur had broken into another one of their songs, so nobody really paid attention to the silent princes. Balin did send them a worrying look and Dwalin was frowning at the two of them.

Bilbo retired early, going away, pressing a chaste kiss on thorin’s cheek that earned quite an uproar at the table. Thorin nodded to him as Bilbo hobbled down the house.

Fili took the moment that Thorin got up to corner him. He nudged Kili. Despite feeling scared, Fili decided that it was important to talk to him as soon as possible.

“Thorin!”

The dwarf stopped and turned, looking at his nephews with a frown. “Yes, Fili? Kili? Something wrong?”

“As a matter of fact, it is,” Fili said more bravely than he felt. He nudged his younger brother, who whimpered. But one glare from Fili had him digging through his robes and pulling out a bead hidden in his hands.

Thorin raised an eyebrow. “Well? What’s in your hand?”

Taking in a deep breath, Kili opened his hand to reveal the marriage bead.

As expected, Thorin’s face immediately turned thunderous. He grabbed both his nephews by the scruff of their necks and dragged them to a secluded corner, where they could not hear the rambunctious laughter of the Company.

“Where did you find this?” he hissed, looking at Kili.

“With-with Bilbo!” Kili stammered, “You can’t do this Uncle!”

Thorin frowned as Fili continued, “Kili saw you braiding his hair. You cannot bind him to you without informing him!”

“Without inform-Mahal! You two are utter idiots,” Thorin groaned, “have you shown this to anyone else? Balin? Ori? Anyone?”

Thorin let out a sigh. Then, without giving them a moment to breathe, he grabbed his nephews and dragged them to the chamber he was sharing with Bilbo.

Inside, Bilbo was in a frenzy. He was peaking under the bed when he heard the door open.

“Thorin, is that you? I seem to have lost- oh! Hello Fili, Kili.”

Bilbo watched in confusion as Thorin all but threw his nephews inside before bolting the door.

“Thorin!” Bilbo scolded, “Could you perhaps not be so rough with the boys?”

Thorin growled, “These ‘boys’ that you talk about have been rummaging through your things.”

As Bilbo opened his mouth to respond, Thorin pushed Kili towards him. Kili, looking ashamed, opened his extended hand to reveal Bilbo’s marriage bead.

“Oh there it is!” exclaimed Bilbo, “Dear, I had been so worried that I had lost it! Beorn’s furniture is all so big-”

“Kili took it,” said Thorin, breaking off Bilbo’s rambles, “He saw us in the garden. I told you it was a bad idea.”

“What?” squeaked Bilbo, looking at Kili, “Where?”

“Up on the tree,” muttered Kili.

That made sense. “Oh. Oh, dear. Did you, well, um, hear anything?”

When Kili shook his head, Bilbo breathed out a sigh of relief and took the marriage bead from his hands.

“I can’t!” Kili suddenly exclaimed, looking at Bilbo, “Bilbo, this is no ordinary bead! I couldn’t believe that Uncle would give it to you!”

“All right...”

“It’s a marriage bead!” continued Fili, looking aghast “And if he braided this into your hair, you are married by our customs.”

“I am well aware, Fili.”

“And after he had- wait, what?” Kili blinked, “You know?”

Bilbo was smiling at the boys as if they were pebbles who had just said something stupid, “Of course I knew.”

The two turned to look at their Uncle, who looked angry and disappointed.

“Do my sister-sons truly think so lowly of me that I would play with someone’s feelings?”

Both the brothers looked down, ashamed. Thorin shook his head, huffing, “I would think that you would trust me, my family, my own blood. But you saw something and came to your own conclusions. You could have-”

“Thorin,” Bilbo said in a warning tone, shutting his Husband up. Huffing, Thorin walked past his nephews and sat down on the bed, glaring at both of them.

Bilbo rolled his eyes, before trotting up to Thorin’s side and finally resting his leg. He looked at Fili and Kili, who were both ashamed and confused.

“Dear, I know that I am married to Thorin.”

“But you cannot!”

Sighing, Bilbo turned to Thorin, “I think we should tell them.”

“No,” said Thorin, still glaring at his nephews.

“Dis knows.”

“Dis doesn’t know everything.”

“Thorin, come on,” pleaded Bilbo, “It did not take very long for your Company to notice our ‘affections’. These are your nephews.”

“What does Amad know?” demanded Fili.

Letting out a deep sigh, Thorin said, “What we are about to tell you does not leave this room. Are we clear?”

Fili and Kili nodded in sync. Thorin nodded, before placing an arm around Bilbo. A soft smile crossed his lips as he looked at the Hobbit.

“Bilbo is my One.”

The effect was immediate. Both Fili and Kili were throwing questions and exclamations that made no sense to Bilbo. Which meant they were talking in Khudzul again.

Thorin shouted, silencing both the brothers, before smiling again, “I have known for a long time. For as long as I have known Bilbo, perhaps. Dis knows that I have found my One, but she does not know who or what it is. It was done for both my and for Bilbo’s safety.”

“But why?” asked Kili, “Ones are sacred. Not all Dwarves find them!”

“Indeed,” said Thorin, “But have you heard of a Dwarf’s One not being another dwarf? Have you ever heard of a Dwarf King finding his One out of his own tribe? My Great-Grandfather’s One was a common dwarf of Erebor, and they weren’t allowed to be together.”

That silenced Kili. Bilbo let out a sigh and said, “Thorin explained it when we were to get married. I know what could possibly happen shall I enter a dwarf settlement wearing these beads.”

“Nothing short of riots,” said Fili, realization dawning on him, “how long?”

Bilbo smiled, like a fool in love, “Close to ten years now, isn’t it Thorin?”

“Hmm,” Thorin smiled, “It was a ceremony with Bilbo’s family. I braided his hair and he bound us with a ribbon of his.”

“Hobbit customs,” explained Bilbo.

“We have been together for years,” said Thorin, looking at his nephews.

Kili’s mouth was hanging open. “But that means...you two knew you were in love with each other?”

Fili smacked his head as Bilbo burst out laughing, “Of course, you silly little dwarf! DO you think I would’ve married your brooding Uncle if I hadn’t fallen in love with him.”

“I do not brood,” grumbled Thorin.

“Yes dear, you just think deeply,” Bilbo said dryly, before turning to the two boys, “Well, is it clear now?”

Fili nodded, “I still have so many questions.”

“And we shall answer them in due time,” said Thorin, “but could you at least trust me?”

The boys nodded, a bit ashamed. But then, a wicked grin appeared on Kili’s face.

“Auntie Bilbo!”

Thorin let his nephew tackle Bilbo on the bed, all while laughing with the Hobbit. He walked up to Fili, who ducked his head.

“Sorry, Uncle.”

“It’s all right,” rumbled Thorin, “though I would have preferred if you had come to me first.”

“Technically, we did.”

Thorin ignored his words. “I require one promise from you, Fili.”

Turning serious, Fili looked at his Uncle. “Anything, Thorin.”

“If something were to happen to me-”

“Thorin!”

“-Promise that you will take care of Bilbo,” he said as if Fili had not interrupted him, “Give him his rightful place, his rightful respect. He would probably try and get away, go back to the Shire. If such is the case, help him travel back. DO you understand?”

Fili did want to imagine his Uncle falling in battle during this quest, but the attack just a few days ago was not something to be taken lightly. So with all the courage he could muster, Fili looked into Thorin’s eyes and nodded.

“I promise, Thorin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today is not a good day. let's just say I am at my lowest. I will get back to all of you with replies soon, probably tomorrow.   
> There were supposed to be two flashbacks in this chapter, but I couldn't bring myself to write them just yet and I Might be reassessing a few of my plot points that you people have no idea bout but I will have to work through those. I just hope you enjoy this chapter. This was one of my most favourite chapters to write. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them.
> 
> Love you all.  
> Stay safe.


	11. Stay by your Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dwarves prepare to leave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EEEP! I am back!
> 
> Thank you for all your wishes. I am much better now, and even have a much better plot planned out. As you can see, the chapter count has increased. 
> 
> Also, you might have noticed the tag update of Mpreg. I have been slightly hinting at it for ages, but now I am sure I am gonna use it. How, when or why? Wellll, you just gotta wait and see, huh? 
> 
> ALSO, ALSO: I have some things planned out from the very start. I know I am not making any sense right about now, but I am very excited about the things to come because I have started writing them and OH MY GOD!!! I just hope all of you like them.

_To say Thorin was confused would be like saying that Erebor was small and a well to do the mountain. Confusion did not even begin to explain what was going on in Thorin’s mind. He felt like a fish out of water, an elephant on a tree, a dwarf out of a mountain..._

_Well, he was a dwarf out of a mountain and very clearly in this case._

_Shaking his head, Thorin frowned at the scene in front of him. The Dwarf King was well aware of loss. He knew what death did to the loved ones left behind. It drove them mad sometimes._

_Perhaps that was what was happening. Bilbo Baggins had perhaps lost his mind after burying his mother into the soil._

_That was the only explanation for what was happening._

_Because the newest head of the Baggins family was instructing young fauntlings and his distant friends on how to set up a party tent in the field where all parties were held._

_In memorial of Belladonna Baggins._

_Yes, Thorin’s One had completely lost it._

_Thorin watched as poles and tents were carried to the field. It was a sunny, breezy day. Nobody complained as Bilbo bossed around a few Hobbits on where to set up the party table. The alemaker was carrying the barrel around, but Thorin was pretty sure he had seen the Hobbit drink of half of what he had promised to deliver._

_Every Hobbit was actually helping Bilbo, and that drove Thorin crazy._

“ _Um, Bilbo?”_

_The hobbit turned to Thorin, eyebrows raised. “Unless you are here to help, Thorin, I would suggest you get back to your forge.”_

_The hobbits giggled. One look from Thorin shut everyone up._

_He turned back to Bilbo with a hesitant look. “How exactly can I help?”_

_That seemed like the right thing to ask, for Bilbo’s face brightened up, “Can you reach the highest branch and lift the tent up? The Chubbs are the ones who usually do this, but because the Gamgees were tired they have asked for the afternoon off and Chubbs have taken over their kitchen. Can you?”_

_Thorin blinked, taking in all the information before nodding. Bilbo clapped his hands excitedly ad turned around, barking commands to the other Hobbits. As Thorin rolled back his sleeves and climbed up the tree, all he could think was that Bilbo would make a spectacular Consort._

_Holding the pole, Thorin looked down at Bilbo. He walked around seamlessly, knowing exactly what to expect and where to expect it. Thorin remembered his own mother working for such an event years ago in Erebor._

_That still did not ease his concerns about Bilbo’s mental health._

_When all was done, and Thorin failed spectacularly in making flower crowns, Bilbo ushered him away to a side to guard the shipments. Albeit reluctantly, Thorin took his post._

_Thorin frowned, looking as the Hobbit handled everything with ease. Only the day before, he had cried his eyes out, bawling over his dead mother. Both the Took matriarch and Thorin were unable to quiet him down. Thorin had never seen Bilbo so lost, not even after Bilbo’s father had passed away. Granted, Thorin had not bene there immediately after._

“ _If you think that much dear, your brain might as well explode.”_

_Thorin blinked owlishly as Adamanta Took seated herself beside Thorin. “Breathe, would you? You are worrying me more than my lad over there.”_

“ _I beg your pardon,” said Thorin, putting up an impassive mask._

_Adamanta hummed before pulling out a pipe. As she cleaned it, she looked at Thorin with a raised eyebrow. “What? Did you think only Bilbo and the lads can enjoy some good pipe and ale?”_

_Realising he was staring, Thorin shook his head, “of course not. I was merely...confused.”_

“ _About me smoking?” Adamanta prodded._

“ _About...” Thorin gestured at the large field, “All of this.”_

_Adamanta frowned, “What about all of this? It’s a party, not Hamfest Gamgee’s great garden secrets.”_

“ _Exactly,” Thorin said carefully, “Mrs Baggins...it was just yesterday. And right now, you are hosting a party.”_

_Adamanta stared at him. Thorin continued to look towards the field, careful nobody got even close enough to steal a few of the food items he was supposed to guard._

“ _What do you people do when someone in their family die, Master Dwarf?”_

_Thorin turned to face Adamanta as she puffed on her pipe._

“ _We mourn them.”_

“ _Elaborate.”_

_Thorin hesitated. On one hand, these were his people’s traditions, and he did not want to talk about it to someone who was not his One. But on the other hand, the woman was probably the one person closest to Bilbo._

_Pushing away his insecurities, Thorin began an abridged version of what they did._

“ _We bury our dead in stone and then we mourn them. Close family members might shave off some of their hair to show the mourning.”_

_There, that was general enough. Nothing too serious._

“ _And how long do you lot mourn for?” She asked._

“ _As long as it takes to heal.”_

_To his utmost surprise, Adamanta chuckled, “You lot are very serious. My dear Belladonna is gone, Master Dwarf, and there’s nothing you or I or Bilbo or any Hobbit in this land can do about it. She died peacefully, and content. Probably creating a whole rucksack in the Gardens right about now, knowing my daughter.”_

_Taking a deep breath, she turned to the field, a sad smile on her face, “She is gone, Master Dwarf, and she is not coming back. We will miss her, and cry a lot. But right now, she wouldn’t want us to wallow in this sadness. She will want us to move on. So we are throwing her a party, to remember all that she did. It is to celebrate a life that was lived.”_

_Thorin hummed, “Do you do it for everyone?”_

“ _Not everyone, only those who wished to do have so,” said Adamanta, “And those who died peacefully.”_

* * *

The sun had come up gently, illuminating the shape-shifter’s house considerably well. The bees were out of their hives as soon as the yellow rays landed on the farthest corner of the mountain.

As the sun rose further up, the Company woke up one by one. Thorin and Gandalf walked away after breakfast, leaving behind everyone else. Once the last of the food disappeared, Oin commanded Bilbo to show his wound to him.

Bilbo rolled his eyes but otherwise followed the older dwarf on the haystack. Every other dwarf crowded around, waiting in anticipation. Oin looked over Bilbo’s leg once before nodding in affirmation.

“It is quite well,” said the deaf dwarf, “Can you walk laddie?”

Bilbo hummed, “I can use both my legs. No need for support or a cane.”

“Aye,” said Bofur, “That is only needed when our dear king takes our Hobbit for the night.”

The dwarrows burst out in loud laughter as Bilbo buried his head in his hands. It had been a week, but none of the dwarves was any better. They continued to tease him and Thorin mercilessly.

“Don’t be so quick to make your bets, Bofur,” quipped in Nori, “I am pretty sure I saw our King limping a few days ago.”

As everyone doubled in laughter, Bilbo groaned.

“Excuse me,” he said loudly, “This is about us resuming our journey. Can we please focus on the matter at hand?”

“The matter at hand is done and solved,” said Oin, “You are as fit as a fiddle laddie. We might as well leave at noon.”

The Company let out an excited hoot and everyone disappeared to gather the ponies and their things. Bilbo sighed and jumped off the table. Yes, his foot was indeed well enough. He wouldn’t be able to break out in a run anytime soon, but he could take a walking holiday very easily.

He nodded, very happy with himself, before walking out and getting his own things.

* * *

“What do you mean you won’t be able to accompany us?”

Gandalf puffed of his pipe in a relaxed manner, before looking at the thunderous face of the Dwarf-King.

“There are matters far beyond your or my understanding in these lands, Thorin,” he said, “Something else requires my attention.”

T horin snorted at the round about words,  “You were supposed to accompany us.”

“And I have,” Gandalf said, pulling the pipe away from his mouth. He coughed a little before looking at Thorin with a small smile, “I have never forsaken this quest. But this is your journey and yours alone. Erebor is your kingdom, and you have everyone you need.”

“And what of the dragon?” demanded Thorin, “What if he is awake? None of us can battle a live dragon, Gandalf!”

To that, Gandalf raised an eyebrow.  “ Y ou have a burglar for that very reason.”

T o neither of their surprise, Thorin shook his head angrily.  “You want me to send Bilbo in there?  Alone, with no knowledge of that beast whatsoever? ”

“Was that not a part of the contract?” asked Gandalf. Thorin did not have an answer for that. Huffing, Gandalf stood up and clapped Thorin gently on his shoulders, “Bilbo is a smart lad, Thorin. He knows what he has signed up for. And I would think he has proven himself more than once during this trip. Would you not agree?”

“...Yes.”

Humming, Gandalf looked down and began to clean his pipe, “You cannot protect him from everything.”

“I can try.” came an indignant reply.

Gandalf frowned unhappily and looked at the dwarf from the corner of his eyes. “Thorin, you are well aware that Bilbo is an entity away from you. You cannot predict his every move nor can you protect him from everything. Do not forget that.”

With that, Gandalf nodded as if the matter in hand was sorted and walked away. Thorin wanted to shout at the wizard and call him all sorts of names but restricted himself. Unable to truly do something else, he sighed and sat down on the ground, massaging his temples.

“Thorin?”

It was as Bilbo had sensed his worries.

“Bilbo.”

His husband was by his side immediately. As he put a hand over his shoulder, Thorin leaned into the touch and smiled up at the Hobbit. Bilbo, however, was frowning.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” said Thorin, trying to put on a smile.

“Tch,” Bilbo clicked his tongue in annoyance before sitting down in front of Thorin, Don’t lie to me, Thorin Oakenshield. What’s the matter?”

“How’s your leg?”

Bilbo was clearly unhappy at the change but answered nevertheless. “It’s well. Oin says we must be able to leave by this evening.”

“We shall push it to tomorrow,” said Thorin, “I will tell Balin. Pack everything today and prepare our resources. If we leave on time, we will be able to reach Mirkwood before evening sets in.”

Bilbo hummed, reaching out to play with Thorin’s braids. “I heard Balin say that the forest is very dark.”

Thorin nodded, looking down. “It used to be well once. I remember accompanying my father to a diplomatic mission long before...everything happened. The rumours say that the forest has become sick.” Letting out a low chuckle, Thorin looked at Bilbo with a smile, “But then, rumours also say that the fallen Dwarrows of Erebor are still haunting the beast and that Dale has a population of men who have become as short as halflings, so who am I to know?”

Unlike what thorin had hoped, Bilbo’s frown got deeper, “Is that what you are worried about?”

Thorin sighed, looking down. Bilbo immediately scurried closer. The fear had all but disappeared now, and Thorin allowed himself to revel in the closeness.

“Dear, talk to me.”

“What if this was a mistake?”

That got Bilbo’s attention. He pulled Thorin’s face up and asked, “What? Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Gandalf?”

“He said that?” Bilbo would kill that wizard.

“No,” said Thorin, well aware of bilbo’s murderous gaze, “But he was the one who had proposed this idea.”

Instead of calming down, Bilbo grew more murderous. “I should have known. I am going to sack that old wizard, my leg be damned.”

Bilbo got up, ready to give the old wizard a piece of his mind. First he proposed this godforsaken idea, then he was making Thorin doubt everything. Oh, Bilbo was going to have words.

Before he could walk away, Thorin pulled Bilbo back. He immediately tripped and landed on Thorin’s lap of all places.

“What?” demanded Bilbo.

Thorin huffed, nestling his face on Bilbo’s shoulder. “He had merely floated the idea into my head, _ghivashel_. I am the one who decided to act on it.”

Bilbo made an unhappy noise, but one pull from his husband and he let the anger leave him, “Well, all right. Tell me, did you make this decision at once?”

“No. I waited for the whole winter, thought about it. Looking at my people...it made my choice.”

“Well then,” Bilbo turned slightly to face Thorin, “You made the right choice as a King. Can’t say I support you as your partner but then you’ve always known that.”

Thorin smiled, pushing the wild curls away from Bilbo’s face.

“Yet you follow me.”

“And I will until this all comes to an end,” Bilbo said with a smile of his own, “We will be fine, Thorin.”

Thorin hummed, before pulling his Husband closer and resting their foreheads together. The two sat in silence for some while, enjoying the peace.

“There’s more,” Thorin finally said.

“Tell me what it is?”

Thorin sighed, pulling back and looking at Bilbo, “Mirkwood....those Elves would never let us through.”

Bilbo frowned. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I hate those tree shaggers more than anything-”

“THORIN!”

“-But they are smart,” It took all of his will power to admit that, “If they realize we are trying to take back Erebor, and wake up the Dragon, they would never let us through. They never helped us before because they did not want to face a dragon’s wrath, nevermind we lived through one.”

B ilbo hummed,  “Beorn mentioned if we stay on th e path we will be able to pass  the forest without meeting the Elves, you know .”

Thorin shook his head. “The path is twisted, Bilbo. And Beorn also said that a sickness lies upon that forest. How do we survive that?”

Looking at the distress, Bilbo turned and put himself comfortably on his Husband’s lap. He held Thorin’s face between his hands and said, “Thorin, love, we will. We will pass through the Mirkwood, we will get through it all and get to Erebor. We will reclaim our home. All right?”

A large smile bloomed over Thorin’s face, “All right.”

“Whatever are you smiling about now?”

“You called it our Home.”

Bilbo blushed. He had never realized that. “Well, it is, isn’t it?”

Thorin once again pulled his close, pressing a kiss on Bilbo’s lips. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

* * *

_The party was a success. There was an overflowing abundance of food. Hobbits had danced and laughed. There was some wrestling which reminded Thorin harshly of his own home. But in short, people had fun._

_Thorin watched Bilbo move around in ease. He had greeted everyone who had come, exchanged pleasantries and answered their questions. Yes, he would live in Bag-End. Yes, Thorin was staying. No, the Forge will open soon again. No, he was not going to give away Belladonna’s spoons to anyone._

_As he watched Bilbo trying to have some sort of civil conversation with the Sackville-Baggins, Thorin felt pitiful. So taking his chance, he pulled Bilbo about a problem with the ale._

_Nevermind there was no problem with ale._

_Bilbo thanked him profusely as they got some pace away from the field. But he began to frown when Thorin got in further away from the scene of the party._

_Once at a respectable distance from all the noise, Thorin turned to Bilbo with a serious expression._

“ _Bilbo. I wish to talk to you about something.”_

_Confused, Bilbo said, “Go on.”_

“ _Well,” Thorin looked at the Hobbit, his hand very still, “We have known each other for a while.”_

_Bilbo nodded.“Two years now?”_

“ _Yes.”_

“ _Yes yes,” Bilbo looked back the party before turning to Thorin, “I am well aware. So?”_

_ What came next was not what the Hobbit was prepared for after all. _

“ _Bilbo, I love you.”_

_His mouth fell open. He stared at the dwarf. They had said many things and hinted very clearly at their feelings for each other, but those words were never truly uttered out loud._

“ _But I am bound by my duties. My people died every Winter, and the trade has helped many survive. They have lost their honour, they have lost their home. I have lost most of my family. All I do is for them.”_

_That did not make anything better. In a small voice, Bilbo asked, “Can’t you be a little selfish?”_

_Thorin chuckled lightly, “I already am. I come here, every Spring, just to be a little selfish. I spend time away from my work, just to gaze upon you.”_

“ _Oh, Thorin,” Despite the severity of the situation, Bilbo could not stop the blush that was rising up his neck._

“ _And I want to be a little more selfish,” Thorin took a step forward, taking Bilbo’s hands in his own, “Bilbo, I love you, and there is no force in this world that can contest otherwise. I cannot take you away, but I can come to you. I cannot promise you my whole life, but I can promise you a fraction of it. If you would take it?”_

_Bilbo was not young anymore. He might not know of the whole world, but he knew enough. With everything happening around him, Bilbo asked “What changes? Tell me Thorin, what changes if I say yes? Will you be able to spend more time with me? Will you be able to walk proudly among your own people? Would you be happy?”_

“ _I already am,” said Thorin, “You have made me the happiest dwarf. And yes, I will spend more time with you. Dis would push me out of my house. Balin would agree.”_

“ _I thought you couldn’t tell them.”_

“ _They will understand enough.”_

_That was not an answer. Bilbo knew that and opened his mouth to protest, but was stopped as Thorin continued._

“ _I know this is too much to ask from you. I am old, much older than you. It is the fact- do not contest me on this. If I only live for another year, Bilbo, I would like to live it with you by my side.”_

_That stopped Bilbo. He was never not aware of their differences. In their ages, in their lives, in their responsibilities and their customs. Those two were as different as they could get, yet they were so close. So same._

_Even though he knew it was a bad idea, bilbo already knew his answer._

“ _A sensible Baggins would never agree to it.”_

_A shadow passed over Thorin’s face. He did not leave Bilbo’s hands but the hold lessened._

“ _I see.”_

“ _But,” continued Bilbo, “I am half Took, I have long since given up hope on being a respectable Hobbit.”_

_Thorin finally looked at him, hope glistening in his eyes. “So?”_

“ _So yes, you old dwat!”_

_Neither truly cared that they were standing very close to the party that anyone could come and just watched them snog the life out of each other. Bilbo pressed on, and Thorin let him, enjoying the moment as much as they could._

_When they finally pulled apart, both were breathless. Thorin looked down at Bilbo with a smile, “I love you.”_

“ _I love you too,” Bilbo said excitedly. Thorin watched as his face turned mischievous, much like the Hobbit he had first come to know, “But this is not over. Just because I have said yes does not mean we marry. You have to ask permission from both sides of my grandparents.”_

“ _Oh, Mahal.”_

“ _Just you stick around now, I will show you what staying with Hobbits means.”_

* * *

Balin passed along the message that to everyone that they would leave early the next day. It did not deter anybody’s spirits. If anything, it made everyone more excited. The prospect of having a roof above their head for another day was not bad.

As the day went on, everyone huddled to get things done. Bombur was with Beorn, collecting herbs and food. Dwalin had taken over inspecting everyone’s weapons, making sure they were sharp and well. Thorin and Balin were busy discussing the technicalities. Oin was going around the garden, collecting herbs. Kili, Fili and Bilbo were working together to put the bags on the ponies for the ride.

It was mostly Fili and Bilbo doing the work though, as Kili looked worriedly at Thorin. Bilbo never paid him any mind- Kili was young still, and easily distracted. In fact, Bilbo used those moments to push his hands into his pocket and feel the simple band of gold.

Fili looked at Bilbo once or twice, eyebrows raising in question. Bilbo would slightly pull out the ring and the two would share a secret smile. They hadn’t really talked about it, but they knew it was a valuable asset if nothing else.

“What has gotten into Thorin?”

Both Bilbo and Fili turned to see Kili staring at Thorin as he talked to Balin.

“Whatever do you mean, Kee?” asked Fili.

Kili widely gestured at the scene, “He looks so confused and scared.”

“It’s the elves,” quipped Bilbo, “He is not looking forward to facing the Elven-King. I wouldn’t either if he had abandoned me during my worst time.”

That surprised the brothers, as they turned to look at Bilbo.

“You know about it?” asked Fili.

Bilbo sighed, loading a pack on one of the ponies, “Ten years, boys. Ten years. I know about his life.”

It was as if someone had flicked the switch. Fili all but dropped the pack and Kili eagerly looked on as the brother jumped close to Bilbo.

“So you knew about us?” Kili asked excitedly.

“Oh sweet Yavannah,” Bilbo cursed, unable to hide his smile, “He would not shut up about the two of you.”

Fili frowned. “What did he say?”

“Nothing good, I presume,” Kili said with a grin.

Bilbo finally turned to face the boys, an amused smile on his face, “Let’s just say I know both about when you defeated Dwalin together and the day when you put the whole of Ered Luin in a lockdown.”

That was the right thing to say. Both their eyes widened and they shared a glance- worried or not, Bilbo could not tell.

“Mahal!” Fili finally said, “Uncle really went out there telling our secrets.”

“That’s not fair!” pouted Kili, “We don’t know a thing of you!”

Bilbo sighed, securing the last pack and sitting down on the ground beside Kili. “Ask away. Go on, I know you have been itching for days.”

Fili was immediately by his other side, jumping excitedly.

“What did Uncle give you as a courting gift?”

Bilbo frowned, “Well...see, that’s complicated.”

Now it was Kili who frowned. “Why is it complicated?”

“We, well,” Bilbo looked down on his hands, blushing slightly, “We never technically courted.”

“What?”

“Did you two just marry?”

“No, no!” Bilbo shushed the two overexcited boys, looking around to make sure a certain red-haired dwarf was not hiding anywhere, “Not what I meant. And don’t say the word so loudly, other dwarrows have loud ears.”

“The only one close enough is Oin and his ear Trumpet has been flattened,” pointed out Kili, “And Uncle and Balin are far too away.”

“All right,” Bilbo sighed, “Well, in the Shire one courts with flowers and cakes. Now, a respectable Hobbit would have done that, but I am no such Hobbit. I just sneaked out with him.”

T he boys’ mouth hung open.

“ _Uncle sneaked out with you?_ ” hissed Fili, almost shaking Bilbo.

Bilbo, however, looked at a distance, lost in his own memories, “Hmm, late-night walks by the riverside, climbing on trees and spending our days lazing around.”

“We are talking about the same Thorin, right?” asked Kili, pointing at Thorin, “The broody one standing right there?”

Huffing, Bilbo pocked Kili on his nose, “He can be very romantic when he wants to be.”

Fili frowned. “Suuuuure.”

Bilbo decided to ignore that. “Anyways, we did all of that. He had already given me my crossbow and sword even before we accepted our feelings. He used to teach me how to fight-”

“Uncle taught you how to fight?”

Bilbo nodded. “Well, how else did you think I learned how to fight?”

“I don’t know, other Hobbits?”

Bilbo let out a loud laugh, even scaring Oin. He looked at the three sitting suspiciously before shaking his head and walking back with his collection of herbs.

“As if! Hobbits are very peaceful and simple creatures. We don’t use weapons. I was too much like my mother, and over that, your Uncle would swing the other way and say something else.”

“He did that with you too?” demanded Fili.

“Did he do the thing where he would push you and trick you?” Kili asked excitedly.

“So. Many. Times!” Bilbo groaned, “He once threw me into the river! And I couldn’t even swim!”

“Oh Mahal!” Fili laughed, “Yes, and he would corner me and push me down and put his leg on my chest until I could push it off!”

“What are all of you babbling about?”

The three looked around, watching as Thorin looked suspiciously at them. Balin was nowhere to be seen and Oin was missing as well.

Bilbo smiled sweetly. “Just comparing notes on how bad a teacher you are, Thorin. Unfair.”

“Very unfair Uncle,” quipped Kili.

Letting out a sigh, Thorin glared at Bilbo. “I see Bilbo has been telling you tales.”

“Are they lie though?” asked Fili.

Thorin looked at them for a long moment, before saying, “...No.”

Kili groaned. “You truly are the worst.”

“Orcs do not fight by rules, now do they?”

“Still the worst,” said Fili, slowly clapping his brother on his back.

Thorin shook his head, before ordering, “Just pack up the saddle. We leave early. I will not wait for anyone.”

“Yes, Thorin.” grumbled the three, and Thorin had to stop himself from rolling his eyes too much. Bilbo could be a child at the worst of times. It was bad enough that Kili and Fili knew.

“Wait!”

Thorin turned and raised an eyebrow as Fili looked at him. “What?”

“Did you really take romantic walks with Bilbo?”

Unable to help himself, Thorin threw a glare at Bilbo. The Hobbit in question continued to whistle and go about his work, but the smile on his face was hard to miss.

“Mahal save me,” he muttered and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another happy-go-lucky chapter, yes. Next time, we enter Mirkwood!


	12. Follow you in the dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirkwood...  
> Bold is Khudzul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAND we are officially in Mirkwood. Nothing good ever happens in Mirkwood- except supermodels Elves. 
> 
> We are also starting with Kili and Tauriel! Yaaay! Have I ever mentioned how much I love those two? I mean, so much?
> 
> Ugh, enough of me. Enjoy the chapter!

The Company of Thorin Oakenshield left the giant Shape-shifter Beorn’s house early next morning. He promised them that he would keep the orc packs away, and in return, they promised to return his ponies before they entered the forests. Nodding in agreement, the two parted their way.

They journeyed through plains and shallow woods, not even stopping for lunch. But none complained, for all wanted to enter Mirkwood before the sun dipped and the trail of Orcs was left far behind. When they finally reached the Elvish entrance, no dwarf grumbled. Dwalin remarked about the lack of orc packs and everyone agreed in unison.

Bilbo watched Gandalf enter the forest, look around and turn back to declare that he was leaving. The company started to shout in protest, but a glare and a couple of stern words shut every mouth up. That did not stop the Ri brothers to pout or for the Ur cousins to let out some very creative curses under their breath.

Ready to make himself useful after days of backing this quest, Bilbo lent his hand to Balin who happily accepted the help. The two chatted as they freed the ponies and picked up their backpacks. Through it all, Bilbo could see the excitement in the old dwarf’s eyes.

When they fell into a line, Bilbo noticed the same excitement in Oin’s eyes as well. It was not lost on anyone how close to Erebor they were. Unable to help himself, Bilbo grinned at the thought too.

But as a weak leaf falls from the tree even in the gentlest of breeze, the excitement disappeared when Gandalf opened his mouth.

“This is not the Greenwood of old,” he said, “There is a stream in the woods that carries a dark enchantment. Do not touch the water. Cross only by the stone bridge. The very air of the forest is heavy with illusion. It’ll seek to enter your mind and lead you astray. You must stay on the path. Do not leave it. If you do, you’ll never find it again.”

Kili huffed and turned to his brother, “With these many warnings, you would think we do need a wizard to cross this forest.”

Fili snorted and Bilbo couldn’t help but agree. It sounded dreadful, the forest. If it was so dangerous, why would Gandalf leave them alone?

_Because perhaps he does not care for your well-being._

That gave Bilbo a pause. It wasn’t his own voice, but something else that was poking in his head. Could it be?

No, no. Gandalf was mysterious, yes, but he was never unkind. He would not leave the Company unless very necessary.

“Are you all right Bilbo?”

Bilbo turned, blinking, as Bofur gently pushed him the line. Fili had his frown and if he continued with it, Bilbo was sure they would etch themselves permanently on the young dwarf’s face.

“I am fine,” Bilbo tried to smile, “Let’s go. We have to make haste.”

“Aye,” said Bofur, “We have to reach the mountain before Durin’s Day. Else this would all be for nought.”

Bilbo nodded, knowing well enough what they were going to do, and walked on.

Soon, however, Mirkwood turned out to be Bilbo’s worst nightmare. The very ground was sick, and the tall trees that covered over them were no better. No matter how much he tried, Bilbo could not see leaves on the branches, yet almost no light entered the dark forest.

Staying on the path was easier said than done, for the land was covered with all sorts of things and it was only the occasional thumps made by Thorin and Dwalin that indicated the right way. Truth be told, Bilbo felt no difference between the path and the wide expanse of the forest floor.

When they finally stopped, it was no telling what time of the day it could be. They could have been walking for an hour or a day, and nobody was ever the wiser. Bofur’s excitement was lost, Oin was more snappish, the young Dwarrows were all tired and Dwalin and Thorin looked exhausted. Bilbo looked at his Husband in concern. He was snappish, short on temper and being no help.

There was no fire that night, but stale bread and some honey. Food did nothing to warm their bellies, but nobody complained as Thorin took the first watch. Bilbo found it hard to sleep on the ground, so he leaned against the one tree that did not look as sick as the others.

To his utmost surprise, not a minute later a head appeared on his lap. Cracking open his eyes, Bilbo expected Thorin to have laid down there to rest. What he instead saw was a lock of blonde hair almost curling up to him.

“Fili?” Bilbo asked softly.

The Prince hummed, before wrapping his arms around Bilbo’s stomach like a babe wrapped its arms around their mother.

Unable to stop the smile, Bilbo gently ran a hand through Fili’s hair and braids. The forest was sick, and he would be glad the moment they exited the damn place.

Before he could continue his thoughts, another pair of hands wrapped around his legs and weight dropped on his thighs. Bilbo had to stop himself from chuckling as he saw Kili cling on to him. He ran a hand through his dark locks too and watched as the princes hummed happily, drifting into sleep.

Bilbo had not meant to look up. He was going to lean and fall asleep himself. But look up he did, and his eyes landed on Thorin.

Thorin, who looked as if someone had torn his heart out and thrown it away. As if someone had punched him deep in the gut, and forced him to watch Erebor burn again.

When their eyes finally met, Thorin did not even try to smile and console his Husband. Bilbo did not try either. The two sat like that, for many long moments, just staring at each other.

Thorin was the first one to pull away, his eyes focused in a distance, his grip tightening around his sword. Bilbo rested his head on the tree and closed his eyes.

What followed was a very restless night for both of them.

* * *

“We found the bridge!”

Kili’s shout should have made everyone spirits life, but the sight in front of them was pitiful, to say the least.

After three days of walking- Balin had somehow managed to keep count- they reached the bridge only to find it broken.

Brilliant, bloody brilliant.

Bilbo found himself staring at the water. It looked so...enchanting. Not like clean river back in the Shire, and nothing like the streams they had passed in this journey. It was mysterious, and capturing and very very confusing.

“The waters of this stream are enchanted.”

Yes. That made sense.

Bilbo blinked, looking back at Thorin. How in the name of Yavannah was he still sane?

Kili was again the one who found the vines. Bilbo was hardly paying attention to what was happening, too busy looking at the water. It was only when Thorin’s word registered, after a long second, that Bilbo realized he was supposed to make a journey.

When he looked back, a part of his brain was screaming ‘wrong’ in capital letters. He looked at Thorin, who nodded tersely. He felt angry, and sad and oh so confused.

Thorin did not even look concerned, and Bilbo felt a heat flare up in his chest.

_He does not care._

Bilbo swatted the air as if dispelling the thought away. Honestly, where was the voice even coming from?

The journey across the vines...well, Bilbo would rather live without recollecting that journey. He almost fell, more than once, and his head was swimming by the time he reached the other bank.

The Dwarrows did not even heed his warning, already halfway across the vines. Bombur, that great big huge dwarf, almost fell down into the water. Bilbo watched as Thorin, somehow- Bilbo had no idea how exactly- managed to pull him back up.

When the thirteen of them landed safely on the bank, Bilbo let out a loud sigh.

He was too fast.

It was all too muddled. There was a white stag, there was an arrow and suddenly Thorin was waking away.

“Thorin,” Bilbo said slowly, but the Dwarf did not even turn. “THORIN!”

He stopped, looking over his shoulder.

“Thorin, where are you going?” demanded Bilbo.

Thorin looked ahead. When he spoke, Bilbo could feel something very wrong with his voice. “He is calling me.”

Bilbo opened his mouth and then closed it. Thankfully, Balin had crossed the river.

“Who? Who is calling you, laddie?”

“Adad.”

Bilbo blinked. Adad. That was khudzul for...father. Right. Brilliant.

Thorin was hallucinating his father. Just perfect.

“My Adad is calling me,” Thorin continued, not moving but ready to bolt, “Can’t you hear him?”

Balin took a deep breath and stepped forward, resting a hand on the King’s shoulder, “Thorin, laddie, come on. We have to stay on the path.”

“No!”

Everyone winced at the sharp voice. Thorin looked murderous as he glared the Company, “Just because all of you have forsaken him, I will not. He is my father. He is your King!”

Bilbo blinked. This was not good. Not good at all.

“He isn’t listening. Dwalin.” Balin sighed.

The bald dwarf nodded. “On it.”

And just like that, Bilbo saw the most bizarre scene of his life. Dwalin picked up Thorin and began to lead. If they weren’t in the forest and the situation was not so dire, Bilbo would have laughed.

Once away from the damned river, Dwalin put Thorin down and everyone walked as if nothing had happened.

* * *

They had left the path. Bilbo was not sure when, or how, and even at what darned time, but they turned away from the path. Thorin was leading, but there was no end in sight. The forest lightened a bit, but it looked a sickly yellow.

Apt, if you asked the Hobbit.

A very small part of his brain, which was sane, told Bilbo that they were going in circles. Bilbo had already seen himself walking behind him, and behind him was Oin, though Bilbo was sure he was walking in front of Dori.

Someone said they needed to go east, to the sun. Then a fight broke out. Bilbo did not pay attention before climbing up a tree. He was Hobbit. He could climb up trees.

When the sun rays finally hit his face, Bilbo was alive. The wind was harsh and cold, but Bilbo could not bring himself to care or even worry. It was a fresh wind, and that was all that he cared about.

The sunrays were so soft, like how autumn suns were. Warm and pleasant, slowly caressing his whole body.

He opened his eyes, and let out a loud sigh of relief. Oh, what a beautiful day it was. He had forgotten how beautiful days could be. There were butterflies, blue butterflies, fluttering all around him. Bilbo was unable to stop the laugh.

It was beautiful.

“I can see a lake!” he shouted, “and a river! And the Lonely Mountain!”

Laughing, Bilbo said, “We’re almost there! Can you hear me? I know which way to go!”

But there came no reply. Bilbo strained to hear the Dwarves shout, but nothing. He called again, but no voice answered him back.

Then, in a distance, he saw branches snapping. They were getting closer to...him.

Oh, Yavannah.

He fell back, and then he fell down.

Into a Spider’s web.

With the biggest spider, he had ever seen right in front of him.

_Oh Yavannah, save me._

* * *

“ _You wish to marry Bilbo?”_

_Thorin looked into the eye of the old Hobbit. Unlike the Thain, he looked most displeased at the idea itself. His wife was eyeing Thorin warily as well, but at least the Tooks were on his side._

“ _Yes, Master Baggins,” Thorin replied with sincerity._

_The Baggins head frowned at him. He looked as if he would die on the spot if Thorin was being honest. “Do you realize what this entails Master Dwarf? It requires a bond of a lifetime, never to be broken. You refuse to take Bilbo away to your home. How do we know you are honest?”_

_Thorin took a deep breath. Yes, he was well aware of how it sounded. Everyone called Bilbo foolish for marrying a dwarf who wasn’t transparent to his own people. For the simple Hobbits, politics, like he was used to, was a matter of big folk and not to be interfered in._

“ _I love Bilbo with all my heart,” said Thorin, making his voice firm, “The workings of my home are unfortunate and there is nothing I can do about it. But I am loyal to Bilbo, and Bilbo only.”_

_The old Baggins huffed and turned to his wife. Thorin waited. They were in the Great Smial, in the Took’s study, four heads of the family and Thorin._

_He almost felt like a man on trial- with his jurists sitting and he having to plead his innocence._

“ _Bilbo has recently reached his majority,” Mrs Baggins spoke up, eyeing Thorin up and down, “And he has gone through unprecedented loss. You are much older than him. Even older than the lot of us! For all we know, you could be using him.”_

_Thorin clenched his hands and gritted his teeth. “I would never use Bilbo.”_

_The Bagginses huffed, but Adamanta Took rolled her eyes. Thorin took that as a sign and continued, “We dwarves have a concept of One. The other half of our soul. We only love once, and never betray that trust. Bilbo is my One.”_

“ _Those are just pretty words, Master Dwarf,” said Mrs Baggins, but there was uncertainty lacing her voice._

_Then, in the most Tookish fashion, the Thain sighed loudly. Everyone turned to him as he rested his head in his hands and muttered, “Ah, only if Belladonna was here. She could have known something.”_

_The Thain looked pointedly at Thorin. He dared to steal a glance at Adamanta, who was looking at him supportively._

“ _Well,” Thorin cleared his throat, “She...she told me to take care of her son before she passed on.”_

_That captured everyone’s attention.“Did she now?”_

_Thorin nodded in affirmation at the Bagginses question._

“ _Anything else?” prodded the Took matriarch._

_Thorin had to stop himself from frowning, “Made me promise to love him.”_

“ _And?” There was a desperation in Adamanta’s voice._

_Thorin racked his brain. That’s all that Belladonna Baggins had said to her. Other than she had given him a lavish recipe of a family dish._

_He looked up, at the intrigued faces in front of him. Hobbits...were simple creatures. Could it be..._

“ _She gave me the recipe of her Shepherd’s pie.”_

_It was as if someone had declared that twelve children were born at once. All the Hobbits started shouting, some genuinely surprised, other merely pretending to be. Thorin watched the four old Hobbits shout and whisper and exclaim._

“ _Sweet Yavannah!”_

“ _What? She gave it to you?”_

“ _Unbelievable!”_

_It was the Thain finally, who shouted over everyone else and quieted them down. He looked gently at Thorin and said, “Master Oakenshield, kindly step out. We need to discuss this.”_

_Thorin nodded and turned around. Outside, a number of Hobbits who were crowding around the door immediately scurried away, whispering furiously and winking at Bilbo._

_Bilbo himself raised an eyebrow, “I heard a lot of shouting. What did you tell them?”_

_Thorin scratched his beard, tilting his head,“Just that Mrs Baggins gave me the recipe of Shepherd’s pie.”_

“ _She did WHAT NOW?”_

_Thorin jumped at the sudden increase in volume. So it was a Hobbit’s thing. Bilbo looked all out of sorts as if someone had given him the secrets of the universe. He was flailing his arms like a fish out of water and gaping at Thoin too._

“ _She gave YOU the recipe!” He exclaimed, tearing his curls, “All these years, I have been asking her, and she gave it to you!”_

_Thorin blinked, “I am sorry?”_

“ _No, it’s a good thing,” Bilbo explained, his face softening only for a second before utter exasperation took over again, “She could have told me! Do you remember it?”_

_Thorin nodded. “It has-”_

_A hand slapped over his mouth. Thorin raised an eyebrow as Bilbo looked around frantically, his eyes widened, “Not here! It’s a secret!”_

_The Dwarf continued to look dubiously at the Hobbit. Bilbo looked around, before pulling away his hand and shaking his head, muttering to himself._

“ _I do not understand.”_

_Bilbo looked at Thorin and sighed, “Thorin...we Hobbits love food. We talk in either food or flowers.”_

“ _I have realized so.”_

_Smiling, he continued, “By giving you only the most sought after recipe in the whole of Shire...she practically gave you all her blessings and accepted you into the family.”_

_That...was unexpected._

“ _Oh. I did not realize.”_

_Bilbo grinned, “Think of food as our...braids.”_

_Thorin raised an eyebrow. “Well then, that is very important.”_

“ _Yes,” Bilbo said excitedly, “Thorin Baggins.”_

_As he broke into a fit of giggles, Thorin crossed his arms. “I beg your pardon?”_

_Bilbo looked up, a maniac grin on his face, “Well, my mother accepted you into our family. So you are now Thorin Baggins.”_

_Thorin huffed, “I am Thorin, son of Thrain.”_

“ _Hmm, pretty sure there was an Oakenshield somewhere there,” teased Bilbo._

_Unable to stop the smile, Thorin explained, “That’s a moniker. Dwarrows get their second names, like men, from there deeds.”_

_Now it was Bilbo who raised an eyebrow, “So you had a shield made of oak?”_

_Thorin looked at him for a moment, his expression grave, before nodding, “That’s a story for another time.”_

_Before Bilbo could prod further, the door opened behind them and Adamanta’s face peeped out._

“ _Come on in,” she said authoritatively, “You too, Bilbo. Come on.”_

_Thorin shared a glance with Bilbo, his stomach hurling and housing a hurricane. The two walked inside, standing in front of the heads._

_Once the door was securely locked, Master Baggins leaned in and said, “I know the recipe, so does my wife. We are going to keep these Tooks as our witnesses, but this never gets out of this room, you two. Now, tell me.”_

_Thorin looked at the eager faces all around. Bilbo looked at the edge of his patience so Thorin inclined his head and began._

* * *

Being in a spider’s web was an adventure that anybody could live without. When they were small and made their ways inside old smials, spiders were deadly. Watching larger than men spiders, Bilbo had to stop himself from whimpering.

Why couldn’t they have had giant Earthworms?

Bilbo watched the upside-down bodies. He did not have to be a genius to guess it was his dwarrows.

Gathering all his courage, Bilbo pulled out the ring from his pocket. It was a good time to go invisible.

He threw a stick far away and watched as the gigantic monsters scrambled away. Once one was left behind, Bilbo attacked and earned a name for his sword- Sting.

He did not waste a moment in cutting off his company and jumping down with them, taking off his ring and stuffing it back into his pocket.

There were voices overlapping each other, and Bilbo helped the dwarrows get up. He took a quick headcount and breathed a sigh of relief when there were thirteen of them.

Their relief was short-lived, for soon the spiders came crawling back. The Company charged with all their strength and wit, waving their weapons around and killing as much of the monstrosity as they could. Dwalin had gone as far as to physically wrestle a spider, and Bilbo barely had time to roll his eyes before a spider came crawling to him.

They had barely gotten somewhere further when a sound caught Bilbo’s attention. Not knowing whatever it was, Bilbo grabbed the closest dwarrows, who happened to be Thorin and Fili, and began to pull them away from the sound to an undergrowth.

His idea was good, for soon Elves were surrounding the Company.

“Oh shit.”

Bilbo shared Fili’s sentiments.

“Thranduil’s Elves,” sneered Thorin, looking from under where they lay, “They will never let us pass.”

“Oh great!” muttered Bilbo, “We were having such a lively time.”

Thorin glared at the hobbit, “Must you be so?”

Bilbo sneered, “Oh, I am sorry Your Majesty, was my sarcasm too much for you?”

“We are surrounded by Elves.”

“I do have eyes!”

“Stop!” hissed Fili, “Could you two take this old married couple fight somewhere else? Our Company is being captured as we speak!”

That shut both Thorin and Bilbo up.

“To think your nephew has more brain than you,” muttered Bilbo.

Thorin huffed as Fili sighed, “What do we do?”

“Thranduil will never let us pass,” said Thorin, “He is afraid of the Dragon.”

“Anybody would be stupid not to be,” muttered Bilbo. “Couldn’t you plead to him?”

Thorin looked offended at the idea, “I would rather die.”

“Bilbo, the ring!”

That got Bilbo’s attention. Thorin frowned, “What ring?”

But before Bilbo could answer, there was a rustling in the leaves behind them. Bilbo slipped on the ring just as Thorin and Fili found themselves at arrow points.

“Who were you talking to?” demanded one of the Elves.

“There’s two fo us here, in case you haven’t noticed,” said Fili with a charming smile.

Thorin, still reeling from the magic of having Bilbo disappear in front of his eyes, let himself be pushed and prodded along with the rest of his Company.

* * *

Kili was having the time of his life. A spider, right above him, ready to kill him. Yes, yes, it was a wonderful day, wasn’t it?

He tried to grab something to hit the big monstrosity when an arrow pierced through the air and pushed the spider off him.

Kili looked back, panting hard. There stood an elf, battling spiders. He looked back, the spider again making its way to him.

“Throw me a dagger! Quick!”

“if you think I’m giving you a weapon, Dwarf, you’re mistaken!”

And in one sweep, the elf killed the spider she was battling and the spider that was coming to eat Kili.

The young dwarf continued to stare at the elf. She gave him a self-satisfied smile and Kili’s heart skipped a beat.

_Oh Mahal, save me._

* * *

Fili was desperate at losing his blades, but he endured as he watched the fellow Dwarves being searched. Gloin’s whole family was insulted by the elf and knowing his cousin, he would never forget that.

Kili was brought back to the group, and Thorin stood dumbfounded as they searched him. Fili could relate. The idea of giving invisible was...interesting.

Letting out a deep sigh, Fili allowed himself to be manoeuvred through the forest and into the Woodland King’s realm.

As they were pushed into their cells, Fili almost lost all hope. The bars were of dwarven make, and there was no way they would be able to break out of it.

Closing his eyes, he prayed that Bilbo would be able to find them.

* * *

“Aren’t you going to search me?”

The Elf looked at him, and Kili was almost sure that it was a she-Elf. Almost. He couldn’t be sure, but there was something about her.

Kili let the cogs of his brain take over, and said, “I could have anything down my trousers.”

The Elf was unimpressed, and said, “Or nothing.”

She closed the cell door but stood there just a moment longer than necessary. Kili knew he had made the impact he wished to.

As she walked away, he allowed himself to smile.

“ **Do you have to flirt with the Elf?”** came Fili’s voice.

Kili chuckled, leaning on the railings. He could not see Fili, but the  disappointment was  clear  his b i g brother’ s voice, “ **I was hoping she would let us go?”**

“ **She?”** Fili asked incredulously, “ **Brother, you better not be doing something stupid.”**

Ignoring as all the dwarrows began to talk over one another, Kili pulled back and sat down. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was a short chapter, comparatively. Hope you enjoyed it!


	13. Be by your Side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being so late! I couldn't write this chapter no matter how hard I tried! Not very happy with how it turned out to be, truth be told, but I like it too.
> 
> Ughh, paradox!

The Elvenking was as much as an elf could be, and yet he was farthest from the elves of Rivendell. There was something different in the way he sat, too greedy, too cold, too...human. Yet he was ethereal, timeless yet old. It was a paradox, as far as Bilbo could see, and it was a paradox that he was unable to understand.

“Some may imagine that a noble quest is at hand. A quest to reclaim a homeland and slay a dragon.”

Bilbo slowly came to stand at a distance from both the Kings. He could see trouble brewing on Thorin’s face, anger slowly bubbling up and threatening to burst. But he was keen to hear what the Elvenking said as he talked of jewels and help.

Wait, help?

Bilbo whipped his head to see a smirk spread on Thorin’s face. His heart hammered against his chest, beating widely. He knew that expression, the one Thorin got if a Hobbit tried to pay him less than his work, which often did not happen.

“I am listening.”

“I will let you go,” said Thranduil, “If you but return what is mine.”

“A favour for a favour.”

“You have my word. One King to another.”

Thorin turned and walked, not facing the Elf. But Bilbo did not need to follow him to see the thundering expression on his husband’s face. He was all too aware of how this exchange was going to go.

Thus, he wasn’t surprised when Thorin all but shouted at the Elf. He was, sort of surprised when he saw the wounds of dragon fire on Thranduil, but then Thorin was being dragged away to the dungeons. The roads were too twisted, too confusing, and before Bilbo knew, he had lost the Elf guard and his dwarf.

This was not going to be easy at all.

* * *

Kili had heard his Uncle declare some rather unsavoury things, and he was not at all surprised. The enmity between dwarrows and elves were legendary- he had grown up on hateful tales of the Elvenking.

Yet, he was never truly able to turn a blind eye to the beauty of the Elves like the rest of his kin. They teased him, for his obsession with the beardless. But there was something truly enchanting about those pale, immortal creatures.

None more than the Elf who had captured him.

“Your brethren are lost to this world. You should follow suit.”

Unable to stop his grin, Kili turned to the bars. The She-Elf stood there, face impassive. He knew she would be unable to resist his charms.

“My brethren do a lot of things. I am known to be quite an exception.”

She raised an eyebrow, “I can see that clearly on your face.”

Snorting, Kili shook his head, “Well aware of the Dwarven race, are you, my lady?”

“Just enough,” she said, “to know that you are young.”

She could have left, walked away, but she didn’t. She continued to stare at him as if he was a puzzle to solve. He couldn’t really stop himself from speaking.

“I am a traveller. Young I might be, but not inexperienced.”

That seemed to impress her. “And where have you travelled?”

“Over the Misty Mountains,” said Kili, holding her gaze, “And beyond. Stayed with Lord Elrond for a while- I must say, he was a much gracious host.”

“Lord Elrond hosted you lot?” the Elf asked incredulously.

Kili nodded in affirmation. She just stared, as if trying to work out a lie.

“Why?” Kili stood up, walking to the bars, “You don’t think an Elf and a dwarf can set their differences apart and be at least civil to each other?”

She cocked her head, ever so slightly. A knowing look passed through her face and the edge of her lips tugged upwards, ever so slightly. “I know well enough that an Elf and a dwarf can work together, Master Dwarf. It’s just hard to believe that Lord Elrond would have hosted you.”

Kili scoffed, “We have been hosted by men, Halflings and Elves. Even Goblins. Come to think of it, only Goblins gave us as bad treatment as this.”

The Elf’s lips thinned, but the corners of her mouth were tugging up. She was clearly trying hard to fight off a smile. Kili grinned, leaning on the bars.

“King Thranduil will not take well to be compared to a Goblin,” she said neutrally.

“Well then,” Kili pulled up his head, “He must not behave in the same way as those scums.”

She finally pulled back and crossed her arms, not even trying to hide her smile. “You have a quick mouth for a young dwarf.”

“I am not that young,” he muttered like a petulant child.

“You have no beard.” she pointed out.

“So?” demanded Kili, “I have done wonders.”

“Have you now?” she asked, amused.

Kili huffed and pulled back, mirroring her stance. “Fought orcs, battled trolls, tricked the smartest of men.”

Shaking her head, she pulled back her hands and said, “An impressive list indeed. Now the night is young and I would ask you to rest now. If you do not wake for food, your highness, it will not be served especially for you.”

“As I said, treatment like Goblins.”

With another glance, she began to walk away. Kili immediately scurried to the bars and said, “May I have your name though? It feels wrong, calling you the ‘beautiful-red-headed she-elf’ in my head.”

She turned, half surprised, half-amused, full of wonder. “You are very cheeky, Master Dwarf.”

Kili shrugged. “So I have been told.”

She stood there for the longest time, staring at him. Kili was a patient dwarf, so he waited, his head pressed against the bars. But as good ten seconds passed, his heart began to hammer in his chest, thinking he would have crossed an invisible line.

“Tauriel,” she finally said, “My name is Tauriel.”

Kili grinned and said, “Kili, at your service.”

He bowed dramatically, earning another smile from her. She shook her head and walked, leaving a young dwarf and his magical dreams.

* * *

“ _So what happens in Dwarf weddings?”_

_That gave Thorin a pause. Royal weddings were grand affairs, but they were very private. The feasts were grand, but the actual ceremony only had the family._

_Since he would have no one, well..._

“ _Well,” he cleared his throat, “Technically a marriage needs only a night to cast the seal.”_

_Bilbo frowned, staring at Thorin for a minute before his eyes widened and a blush appeared on his cheek. “Oh, dear,”_

_Thorin laughed, shaking his head. “But we have our customs too. Couples have to first approach the King, who has to approve of the union.”_

“ _Well, I won’t have a problem there.”_

_Ignoring his smugness, Thorin continued to look at the wood he was whittling and said, “They then have to move to their family heads. If they agree, which they usually do, we move to the actual ceremony. The first part is a prayer to Mahal, to give us the strength to endure.”_

_Bilbo hummed, staring at Thorin, his face resting on his knee. The two were sitting in Bag End’s garden, Bilbo supposed to be reading a book and Thorin working on his private project._

“ _Then the couples braid each other’s hair while vowing themselves to each other,” said Thorin, brushing off the remains from his work. He had a faint blush on his cheek, but they were well hidden by his hair and for that, the dwarf was glad, “Once that is done, the couple retreats back into bedchamber.”_

_Finally looking up from his work, Thorin smiled, “Then the next day there is a huge celebration._

_Bilbo hummed, his eyes dreamy. “Hobbits are slightly different.”_

_Looking up, Thorin found Bilbo at the edge of his seat. He immediately put away his work and lent an ear to his beloved. Bilbo happily grinned and put away his book, sitting properly, “The ceremony starts simple. The two parties need to just be present with the Thain or someone old to give their blessings. Their hands are bound by a single ribbon, which any one of the parties can propose. They share a flower crown of their own choice. They then promise to love and cherish each other. Once they kiss, the wedding is over.”_

_Unable to help himself, Thorin laughed. “Very simple.”_

_Bilbo grinned too, “Hmm, and then we party.”_

_Sighing, Thorin said, “Of course you do. You Hobbits party a lot.”_

“ _Get used to it Thorin, get used to it.” warned Bilbo, “You are now a part of this. Thorin Baggins.”_

_Rolling his eyes, Thorin picked up his work again, “Shan’t we wait for the wedding before sharing names?”_

_Bilbo huffed, “You are a Baggins now. Get used to it.”_

_Thorin hummed but did not lookup. As time passed, and no noise came from Bilbo, Thorin frowned. He looked up from the corner of his eyes, and froze._

_For all the mirth that he had possessed a few moments ago, Bilbo was hunched over the bench, tears streaming down his face. His face was in his hands again, yet he seemed more reserved and heartbroken._

_Immediately discarding his work, thorin rushed to Bilbo’s side, holding him tightly. Bilbo held on to Thorin, crying silently._

“ _Ghivashel, what is wrong?”_

_Bilbo sniffed, shaking his head. “Sorry. I am just not feeling well.”_

_Thorin looked down, frowning, “Bilbo, you can talk to me.”_

_Those big wonder eyes looked at him, full of sadness, “I miss Ma...and Pa.”_

_He understood far too well. Without another word, Thorin pulled Bilbo closer and began to hum._

_The two sat like that for ages outside Bag End, each lost in their own thoughts. Later Bilbo would apologize, and Thorin would lightly scold him, and the two would share stories of their parents._

_But at the moment, as the sun set, the two sat, leaning on each other, lost to the world._

* * *

Time passed slowly in Elvenking’s dungeons, yet Fili knew that with every passing moment they were getting closer to Durin’s Day. After all their adventures, he did not expect to be stuck so close to the mountain.

A week had passed, and none of the dwarves was faring any better. Thorin refused to speak or change his mind. Fili wished he did if it meant getting out. The dwarves were getting desperate, and worst of all, there was no sign of Bilbo.

Once Bilbo had slipped on the ring, Fili had assumed that the Hobbit would follow them. But as time passed, a dark thought began to worm into Fili’s head. What if Bilbo was left behind in the forest? What if he didn’t know where the dwarves were?

A scratching noise perked his ears. Fili watched from the corner of his eyes. There was no one near his cell, but he couldn’t help but feel uneasy.

He looked out and slowly growled. It seemed to amuse the Elves, but Fili had no love lost for the pointy-eared bastards.

Then came a whisper, “Keep growling like that and we might make a lion out of you.”

“Bilbo!”

Appearing out of thin air, Bilbo sushed Fili, before looking around in concern, “Keep quiet! The Elvish guards are here and if they see me I will be thrown in here with you lot.”

Fili chuckled. He was immediately on his feet and on the bars, pulling Bilbo’s hands close to his heart, “You had us all worried, Uncle more than most.”

Bilbo scoffed, but patted Fili’s chest slowly “If given a chance, Thorin would worry about the whole of Arda, so let’s not get there.”

Fili nodded. Bilbo slowly caressed Fili’s cheek, concern evident in his eyes. The young dwarf leaned into the touch. To think that they had barely met the Hobbit just a few months ago.

“Are you all right? Is Kili?”

“I am well,” Fili snorted, “And from what I could hear, Kili has been making merry with Elves.”

“Then he is much smarter than you or your Uncle,” Bilbo scolded, and then softened, “You hold on boy, understand? I will be coming for you. Just a few more days.”

“Yes, _Idad_.”

Bilbo froze, before a soft smile appeared on his face. “You can just call that me in Westron, you know. So that I can understand.”

Fili raised an eyebrow. “You know Khudzul?”

“Ten years, boy, ten years,” Bilbo huffed, “I am privy to some of your secrets.”

“At this rate, you will be a dwarf soon,” said Fili, before a grin appeared on his face, “Is the ring helping you?”

A shadow passed through Bilbo’s face, but it was too fast for Fili to actually pay attention to.

“It is serving me well,” grinned Bilbo, “I will never forget your Uncle’s face when he saw me disappear.”

Fili huffed, “Neither would I.”

Before Bilbo could reply, footsteps echoed in the dungeons. Bilbo immediately pulled back and slipped on the ring.

Fili sighed. He would not know where Bilbo was off to now. But at least he was inside the castle.

That was enough to soothe his worries.

* * *

Days passed at an alarming rate. The sound of the gong every few hours kept the dwarves up to date with how long they were locked up in the dungeons. One of the elves continued to go to Thorin, but he remained impassive. Balin’s wise words did nothing to soothe his anger.

When Bilbo finally appeared to him, Thorin all but leapt and hugged him to the last of his breath. After being assured that yes, he was fine, no he was not a hallucination and yes, he was working on a plan, Thorin let out a deep breath and became even louder in his distaste to the Elvenking.

It was one of those days when Bilbo had checked on every dwarf and his Uncle was loudly proclaiming how Thranduil will not get a single thing from the Mountain, that Tauriel stopped outside Kili’s cells.

Not that it was a rare occurrence. The Elf dropped by his cells daily, sometimes just checking up on him, other days having a nice talk. Flirting, if Kili was being honest. Not that he minded at all. Anything she gave him, he was ready to take.

“Your leader is quite loud about reclaiming the mountain.”

Kili looked up at Tauriel. A frown was etched on her face, as she looked from where the sound of his Uncle’s bellowing was coming.

“It’s his quest,” said Kili, “And he is persistent.”

Tauriel turned, looking at him with a worried frown, “So I have come to understand.”

Kili tilted his head, “You have a problem?”

“Many would deem it unwise.”

Unable to stop the snort, Kili said, “Of course it is. But that dragon has taken over our home. He sleeps on our gold and jewels. What would you do if a dragon decided to own this Woodland realm?”

She opened her mouth but seemed to decide against it. Shaking her head, Tauriel seated herself on the stairs beside the cell and looked at a distance.

“I was young when it first came,” she finally said after a long wait, “Still training under the Captain. The tremors were felt till the edge of the forest, the heat searing through the air on the best of days. Those who fled were lucky, for in the years to come to the dragon made it a play. He burnt every settlement that the survivors would try to build. He flew over these lands, taunting us.”

Taking in a deep breath, Tauriel faced Kili, “We were not unaffected. I have lost comrades, friends. So when the Dragon fell to sleep seventy years ago, we rejoiced.”

Finally smiling, Tauriel said, “There has been peace in these lands for more than half a century now. If you awake that beast, I fear that the worst will come.”

Kili could understand that. A fear of something that was gone. He remembered the days in his own home when his Mother and Uncle worked with every ounce of their life to bring food on the table. Royalty they were, but not respected. When he and Fili finally began to work, a sort of peace settled. Then, when food no longer remained a luxury, they could only thank Mahal.

Their experiences might not be the same, but they were similar. He understood the fear of having the worst time of their lives back.

He stood up and pushed his hand out of the bars. Gathering his courage, he lay a hand on the elf’s hands. She looked up, half scared, half confused as he smiled.

“He could wake again, and the cycle of fear would start once more,” said Kili, “But if we do this, if we slay the beast, it will be over for good. Does that not sound desirable?”

“And how do you plan on slaying the beast?” demanded Tauriel.

Kili paused, earning a huff from her. She stood up, shaking her head, “A fool’s errand, Master Kili. I would ask you to be wise.”

“We do have a plan,” he said hurriedly, “But we can’t trade all our secrets.”

Tauriel looked at him, a moment too long, before shaking her head. “Rest.”

And then, she was gone.

* * *

_On the 16_ _th_ _of May, when the summer sun was high up in the sky and the meadows were green enough, the Party Field of Hobbiton was filled with preparations of a wedding._

_Hobbits came from all over the Shire, but the news was kept a secret. Despite being the gossipiest bunch, Hobbits knew when to keep their mouth shut. Even the Sackville-Baggins, who had a great distaste for both the grooms, kept her mouth shut. News of a Dwarf and a Hobbit marrying did not even reach Bree, where men could be curious and jump on the worst of chances._

_There was a beautiful aisle, covered with rose petals. The platform was decorated with white and yellow flowers, and the Thain was ready to take his place. The guests stood around the platform, all eager to see the Dwarvish-hobbit wedding._

_Ravens had flown early morning, carrying huge packets. Hobbits had never seen the sight. It was something like Gandalf’s fireworks._

_Speaking of the old coot, he had appeared as well, his trolley laden with fireworks. He was welcomed in Bag End early morning, by the dwarf nonetheless._

_The gossip had already started going around, and it was a loud affair. But a hush fell as the Thain cleared his throat. The Tooks whistled, the Brandybucks hooted and some Hobbit faunts laughed, but they fell silent._

_They heard the Thain talk of merry gathering and another union of love. But it was short, and so Hobbits could forgive him for even trying._

_Then came the Hobbiton blacksmith, and hoots were thrown around. He might be a dwarf, but he was a part of the Shire now. Lobelia Sackville-Baggins turned up her nose, but she always turned up her nose. Though even she could not deny that the dwarf looked good in Hobbit wear- three-quarters pants, a white shirt, a cream waistcoat and his hair braided into intricate pattern_ _s_ _. The_ _only_ _oddity, perhaps, was his dark brown boot_ _s_ _. They were laced with golden buckles and lin_ _ed with silver._

_He bowed to the Thain and began to chant something in a language unknown to the Hobbits. Everyone tried to get closer, to listen, but none could hear. As he spoke, in low voice, it sounded like a prayer._

_Hobbits weren’t the most pious people, but all hushed as the dwarf spoke. It was not very long either, but it was certainly interesting._

_Then the Dwarf stopped speaking, and turned to the Thain, nodding slightly. From the other side of the platform came the master of Bag End._

_Even louder hoots took over the party field. Master Baggins was dressed smartly, in a dark blue shirt and a white waistcoat. Those who knew old Bungo Baggins could see his pocket watch on the waistcoat._

_The Hobbits expected the ribbon to be brought out but were surprised to see the Dwarf pull out a few beads. He walked closer to the Hobbit and taking a rather large strand of hair, began to weave a braid in his hair. Lasses watched in awe as a crown was weaved into his hair, a bead at regular interval holding it together._

_What surprised them more was as the Hobbit pulled out a wooden bead himself and pulled the dwarf closer, braiding a simple braid in his hair, clasping the wooden bead at the very end._

_It was an odd thing, but both parties looked_ _happy, so who were they to complain?_

_Then came the Took matriarch, with a red ribbon. The Hobbit pulled the dwarf’s hand and clasped it tightly. The Took bound the ribbon around their hands as both began to recite their vows. It was small and sweet, and by the end, most Hobbits had tears in their eyes._

_Then came the flower crowns, and the Took matriarch placed it on both their heads. The grooms were both smiling widely, tears in their own eyes. When the Thain finally told them to kiss, both moved at once and captured the other’s mouth._

_A large hurray went through the field, and barrels of ale and pipeweed was pulled out._ _The claps echoed in the field, and when they finally pulled apart, the party began_

_The wedding party of Mr and Mr Baggins._

* * *

_Mereth-en-Gilith_. The Feast of Starlight. Bilbo had been hearing about the feast for days. It was only logical for him to choose the day after which most of the palace would be out of their mind to escape. He sat in the corner, watching the Elves drink themselves silly. Only a few more hours, and he would have the keys in his hands and his dwarves in a barrel.

Letting out a deep sigh, Bilbo wondered what his life had truly come to. Once he was the one hosting such parties in the Shire. His arrangement commendable and loved by all. Now, he was struck, invisible, in an ElvenKing’s palace.

The footsteps close to him startled him out of his daydreaming. There she stood, the She-Elf Kili had lost his heart to. Bilbo had watched them talk, exchanging more than pleasantries. Just a few hours ago he had spotted Kili and her talking about starlight and moonlight.

There was nothing as beautiful as young love, Bilbo had to admit.

She was a good soul. Kind, at par with Kili’s words, curious and yet aware. If this...ever developed into something more, Bilbo would whole-heartedly help Kili elope with his love.

And if Thorin ever decided to be all stupid about the whole deal, well, Bilbo had his own words to say to that.

She walked forward, a frown on her face. Much different from how she was with Kili. She looked around, shaking her head and walked away.

Something tugged in his head, and Bilbo found himself rising up to follow the She-Elf. She walked further deep into the palace, away from the dungeons and the kitchen and the courtroom. It looked like living quarters, from what Bilbo could understand.

She stopped in a small room, not closed from the rest of the world yet tucked away. There sat another Elf, a raven head, writing something away.

“Am I interrupting?”

The Elf jumped in fear. His eyes landed on Tauriel and he let out a breath.

“Tauriel,” he shook his head, “you scared me.”

Tauriel just smiled, walking over to the desk, “Are you writing to our friends?”

The Elf nodded, “The Elvenking thinks he has secured the dwarves, but I am not so sure. You and I both know how clever these creatures can be.”

Tauriel hummed, her eyes distant, “Some more than other.”

The Elf stared at Tauriel. Realizing she was under scrutiny, Tauriel shook her head and put on a smile, “Have you written to Silvertongue and Bowman?”

He picked up his quill and parchment, “Doing just that. Letting them know that the dwarves plan on marching to the mountain. Say, you wouldn’t happen to learn more from your young lover, would you?”

“he is not my lover!” she said hurriedly, looking around in worry, “he is just a friend.”

The Elf raised an eyebrow, “A friend who makes you blush? Even Prince Legolas’ stare do not make you as red.”

Tauriel glared at the elf, but he just sighed. “Fine then, here’s the letter. I will send it after the Feast and let our friends know what comes their way.”

Tauriel nodded and turned when the Elf spoke up again. “Say, Tauriel.”

“yes?”

“Do you think they will manage to do what they plan to?”

She didn’t speak for a while, staring in the distance. Finally, she looked back and smiled, “these dwarves are persistent. They will find away. And I think we are short one dwarf.”

“Short?”

“Kili mentioned 14 members,” said Tauriel, “We have only 13. I wouldn’t be surprised if these dwarves managed to escape.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this ended up being far more Kiliel than I expected it to be, but I love these two blubbering fools. 
> 
> Also, the wedding is the way it is because I just couldn't write it. I might write it all down as a one-shot one day, in this series, but right now I feel something wonderful when it is so distant, yet beautiful, you know?
> 
> Things developing on the horizon. oh, what's going to happen! Hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	14. Lead you to Your path

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooo, I am so damn excited about this chapter! Hope you enjoy it!!!!

In the dingy, dark, horrid cell, with no sense of design, Thorin sat with his back to the wall. His eyes were fixed on the wall, but his mind was soaring.

The Elves, their captors, were having a blast and it irked the Dwarf King. Then, there was the matter of his nephew, his blood, getting all chummy with a She-Elf. Even if he could not hear what those two were talking about, he could recognise the flirting smiles and lovestruck look.

His own blood was getting on with _Elves_.

Thorin was going to be sick.

“I’ll wager the sun is on the rise.”

Thorin sighed. Bofur sounded heartbroken. If that dwarf was losing hope after days in the dungeons, no one else would be able to hold on. Bofur was perhaps the loudest, most optimistic and the most irritating dwarf in his Company, all things considered.

But he was the reason everyone’s spirits were high.

“Must be nearly dawn.”

“We’re never gonna reach the mountain, are we?”

That was how the future looked. Bleak, surrounded by _Elves_ and _Elvish prison_ and _Elvish food_. The magic of the tree-shaggers was reaching to his head, he was actually considering taking the bloody smug Elvenking up on his offer of exchanging the jewels for his freedom.

_HE WAS THINKING ABOUT STRIKING UP A DEAL WITH **THRANDUIL.**_

He was losing his mind, trapped in the disgusting Elvish prison. He couldn’t even pretend to admire the ‘beauty’ as he had in Rivendell.

“Not stuck in here, you’re not.”

The jingling of the keys brought Thorin’s head up. There stood Bilbo, in his red coat, yellow waistcoat, wisps of the web still sticking to him, and their freedom in his hands. Thorin immediately jumped up to the bars. Bilbo gave him a quick smile and opened the cell doors.

The Dwarves began to cheer, and Bilbo sushed them up, and Thorin felt pride swell up in his heart. Yes, this was his Husband, his _ghivashel_ , his _amralime_ , the man he was blessed to call his One.

As he opened the cell door, Thorin pulled Bilbo in a quick kiss. His husband gave him a dazzling smile, before hurrying down to free the other companions. Thorin himself began to instruct his comrades. He lead them up the stairs, from where he had seen his guard disappear often.

But Bilbo had other plans. He shook his head and spearheaded the dwarves further down. Thorin frowned but nodded when everyone turned for his approval. Bilbo was smart. He knew his plans well enough.

* * *

“We’re in the cellars!”

Kili wanted to tear away his hair. What was Bilbo possibly thinking? Leading them down to the cellars? They were supposed to escape, not sit and have a merry drink with the Elves.

Though he wouldn’t mind sharing a drink or two with his own Elf.

_Not the time!_

“I know what I am doing,” whispered Bilbo to Bofur. Bofur shushed him but nevertheless followed his instructions. Kili himself had no choice but to go on. Though he had no idea where they were going. There was no end in sight, except barrels and wine bottles.

“Climb into the barrels.”

Kili’s head turned faster than an arrow leaving a bow. Bilbo possibly couldn’t be serious?

“Are you mad?” demanded Dwalin, and Kili whole-heartedly agreed, “They’ll find us.”

Bilbo shook his head, “No, no. They won’t, I promise you. Please, please. You must trust me.”

Everyone exchanged a glance, Fili and Kili sharing one. They both had the same thought- Bilbo had gone mad.

But while Kili was absolutely sure, there was some hesitance in Fili’s eyes. Kili looked back just in time to see Bilbo turn to Thorin.

Great. As if Thorin would ever say no to Bilbo.

“Do as he says!”

Biting back a loud groan, Kili got into one of the large wooden barrels, followed by Fili in the next one. The two brothers continued to exchange glances as everyone settled in.

“What do we do now?” asked Bofur, and everyone poked out their head in question.

Bilbo looked at them once before saying, “Hold your breath.”

Kili barely had time to actually process that sentence before the floor beneath him was shifting and the barrels were rolling down into the water.

As a child, Kili had loved swimming in the streams and lakes. As he grew older, his body became bulkier and he was forced to stay back lest he wanted to be drowned. Now, sitting in a barrel, inside water, Kili felt a laugh bubbling inside his chest.

Bilbo fell down next, and Nori immediately held on to him before they began to swim forward with the barrels. Kili held his breath as he heard Thorin yell and the daylight shined of his face.

Time stopped as the barrel thrust forward into the current. Kili was barely able to stop himself from screaming as they barreled down and the water drenched him completely.

As an adult, he was well aware that this was not a sport nor his playtime. Yet he could not stop from whooping and cheering as they swam down the river.

Of course, the Elves could not actually let them have their fun, and so came the horn. The gate was shut, and the barrels, along with the dwarves, came to a halt.

Then came the orcs.

Kili had to rub his eyes and gasp to make sure his eyes were not deceiving him. Yes, there were orcs. And Elves.

Mahal sure liked to make his children work very hard.

One fell after the other, and some sort of battle ensured. Kili himself had no weapons or bulk like Dwalin to fight.

He looked up, the lever left unguarded.

Within a moment, Kili knew what he had to do.

Jumping over barrels, he easily reached the landing. One sword from Dwlain and he managed to slay an orc. Kili climbed up, taking one orc after the other, fighting his way to the lever when a loud scream of his name pierced his ear.

Kili was able to move just in time to miss an arrow meant very clearly for him. Gasping for breath, Kili looked over to see Tauriel running down the rocks, her red hair just in place, her face creased in worry and her bow in hand.

He was in love.

She sent him a smile and quick nod, and Kili nodded back before jumping forward. The other Elves came rushing out of the trees just as he pulled down the lever.

The metal bars opened, and the barrels went on, dropping into the river. He looked back at Tauriel, fighting her way through the orcs. He looked down, Fili shouting for him to come.

It wasn’t really much of a choice of who he was to follow, yet he couldn’t help but hesitate.

Tauriel punched an orc, before turning to him and gesturing her head towards the other dwarves. Kili shot her a grin, before jumping down in his own barrel. He was lucky too, for a moment later and he would have to swim down or hold on to his brother’s ride.

* * *

Bilbo hated water bodies. That was a fact.

The barrel riding was his idea. That was also a fact.

He hated himself for said idea. Another fact.

He was very glad when they reached the shore. It was rocky, not the kind of ground he preferred, but at the moment he would take anything else over bloody water.

Looking up, he found that nobody else was faring any better. Ori and Dori looked sick, Nori like a wet cat ready to pounce on someone. Bifur looked murderous and Bofur sick. Bombur was already throwing up. Gloin and Oin were catching their breath, and Bilbo was sure the only reason Balin and Dwalin were up on their feet because they were seasoned warriors. Even Thorin and Fili looked sick.

Kili was perhaps the only one with a smile on his face.

Bilbo really wanted to punch the boy for his smile.

“On your feet!” came Thorin’s command, “There’s an orc pack on our trail. We have to keep moving.”

Everyone protested, but the severity of the situation was not lost on them. Nori scrambled away, scouting for ways out. Everybody began to shake like dogs, to get the water out of their system.

Bilbo would not say no to pipeweed after such a ride, surely. Unfortunately, his pocket did not even a pipe. There were coins, the bead box tucked away safely inside and the ring, but no pipe.

“I don’t think the orc pack is going to come this way.”

Nori’s voice startled everybody. A head poked out of the trees, and he looked truly surprised.

Dwalin grunted, “Whyever not?”

Nori shuffled out of the greenery and said, “There’s a village here.”

* * *

“ _Do you have to go?”_

_Thorin chuckled, putting a tunic in his bag, “You have asked me this question for three years, ghivashel, and every time my answer has been the same.”_

_Bilbo whined from where he lay on the floor, his head perched on the bed, “It’s lonely without you.”_

_Thorin walked around the bed and pressed a kiss to Bilbo’s curls, “It’s lonely without you too. But I am afraid that I do not make haste Dis will kill me.”_

“ _She will maim you at most,” Bilbo pouted, “Loss of one limb is a good price to pay for one year of togetherness, won’t you say?”_

_Snorting, Thorin walked back to the bed with more of his clothes, “I am glad you haven’t met my sister. The day you and Dis meet will be the day of my doom.”_

“ _I am in half a mind to write her a letter,” said Bilbo, “telling her all about what you have been calling her behind her back.”_

_Raising an eyebrow, Thorin shook his head, “Exactly why I am glad you two have not met.”_

_Bilbo huffed but did not grace Thorin with an answer. He sat back, watching Thorin pack for his return journey to Ered Luin._

_They could have had another week, or two, but there had been an urgent letter from Dis about some Lord talking about Thorin being a bad ruler or something. Bilbo himself did not understand such things very well, but by the look on his Husband’s face, he knew that it was terrible._

“ _He might as well have shaved my beard,” Thorin had grumbled, and though Bilbo understood the weight of those words, he did not understand why it mattered._

_The night passed like that. Bilbo had to finally pull himself up for dinner because both he and Thorin needed to eat and then he definitely needed food for his journey. So off he went to the kitchen, preparing a simple dinner and some non-perishable items for his husband._

_Dinner was spent silently in each other’s company, and the night passed into each other’s embrace. When the morning came, Bilbo swore to himself that he would not cry, even when Thorin pressed a kiss on his forehead and disappeared from his view. He just stood on the doorway, watching the Dwarf go and Hobbiton wake up._

_Days passed, and autumn began to grow chillier. Bilbo went about his days, collecting rents, managing his smial, sharing tea with distant cousins and sometimes went to Green Dragon to have drinks. There was a lot to do. A garden to tend, pantries to stock, wood to collect. With winter approaching fast, Bilbo busied himself in the work._

_It was during one of those days when Bilbo was making sure his tenants had everything and he was checking his stock when he first fell the urge._

_It was a small thing, in the centre of his stomach, and it could very easily be passed for hunger. So that it was what Bilbo did. He went back home, ate a hearty meal, wrote a letter to Thorin that he would give to him once he got back, and went to sleep._

_But the poking remained. It wasn’t hurtful, but rather very uncomfortable. From his stomach, it went to his chest, and Bilbo often found himself rubbing his torso. But no matter what he did, he could not get it to go away._

_On one of the early days of winter, when Bilbo had gone to the Green Dragon to share a barrel of ale with his friends, the urge started again._

“ _What’s the matter, Mr Baggins?”_

_The said Hobbit grumbled, rubbing his chest, “I don’t know Mr Greenthumb. My stomach and chest have been very funny for some time now.”_

“ _Oh no,” Mr Greenthumb leaned over, “Have you seen Lily? She might have concoction or two.”_

“ _It is no illness, but rather a discomfort you know,” Bilbo answered honestly, “And I have no idea why it began. There has been no change otherwise.”_

_Mr Greenthub frowned. He puffed on his pipe for a moment before pulling it out and saying, “Have you talked of kids with Master Blacksmith Baggins?”_

_Bilbo frowned, “Well, we have never thought about it. He stays away for half a year. It just is not very practical, is it?”_

“ _Hmm,” Mr Greenthumb nodded, “Aye, not very practical, but everyone wants faunts. You have the whole of Shire to help you.”_

“ _Lobelia would say otherwise,” someone grumbled from other side and Bilbo had to bite back a grin._

_Mr Greenthub huffed and said, “I say so because what you define sounds like the Urge.”_

_Bilbo frowned, “The Urge? In winter?”_

“ _Ah, Mr Baggins, you of all people should know that seasonal words are nothing more than superstitions. Why, I have had urges in all seasons.”_

_Scratching his head, Bilbo leaned forward. Yes, he was aware that it didn’t happen according to the season, but most people got their Urge around planting season. It was just easier._

“ _But, we never thought of it? We never planned it!”_

_The older Hobbit smiled, “You two love each other, do you not?”_

“ _Well, yes.” There was no question there._

“ _Then who is to question Lady Yavannah’s will?”_

_That was true. But planting a child...alone...now, that did not sit well with him at all. He could write a letter to Thorin, but he would not be able to come back anytime soon and urges got very troubling if left alone._

_Hobbits also said if you ignored it, it might never come back._

“ _While that is good,” said Bilbo, “I cannot exactly go and plant a seed alone, now can I?”_

“ _Oh, pish-posh. I planted our Rinny alone and look how well she had grown out to be.”_

_Looking at Bilbo hesitation, the Hobbit leaned forward and gave him a kind smile._

“ _You don’t have to make a decision right now. You can wait until he comes back. Drink lavender. It would help with the discomfort. Don’t worry a lot. You just ought to know what it is.”_

_Bilbo nodded. That sounded reasonable enough._

_But no matter how much he tried, he could not push it away. Now that he knew it was the urge, every time he saw any seed all he could think about were fauntlings, with large feet and Thorin’s eyes and hair. Little things, running all around Bag End and in the Shire._

_Unable to make a decision, Bilbo finally went off to meet his Aunt Mirabella._

“ _Now, boy, not that I am complaining, but what brings you to my smial? That too in winter?”_

_Bilbo smiled over the rim of his teacup. His dear Aunt was always straightforward, truly tookish in nature._

“ _Well, Aunt Mira, I am sort of in a catch. I need help.”_

_The older Hobbit leaned forward and rested a hand on his leg. “Go on, my boy.”_

_She was probably expecting something horrible or concerning. Bilbo took a deep breath and said, “Well, you see, after Thorin went away, I have been having the Urge.”_

_Mirabella’s face lit up at the news. She put down her tea cup and pulled Bilbo in a hug, exclaiming, “Oh, Bilbo! That is great news!”_

_Bilbo took the congratulations with much grace, allowing her to fret enough before saying, “Well, yes, But Thorin is not here, and I am truly afraid to do it alone.”_

“ _Oh, there is no need to worry,” Aunt Mira said with a grin, “Many plant their seeds alone. It will be ages before that dwarf is back. You cannot ignore it till then. It might disappear.”_

“ _Well, yes...”_

“ _And children!” She clasped her hands and let out a squeak, “Come on Bilbo...”_

“ _Ma told me she and Da planted many seeds.”_

_Mirabella’s face softened, and she lay a hand on Bilbo’s shoulders as he continued, “You know what they say. I was the only faunt to survive. Oh, I don’t want to do anything dreadful.”_

_The older Hobbit took the cup from Bilbo’s hands and looked at him with a motherly gaze. “Now listen here Bilbo Baggins. Some couples have it hard, but it does not mean that you are doing something bad. By Yavannah’s grace, your seed will flourish. If, and this is the worst-case scenario, the seed does not bloom, it just means that you have to wait. All right?”_

_Bilbo did not feel so but nodded nevertheless. It made sense, though he did not wish any harm to come to his future faunt._

“ _Now go back, set up your garden and plant a seed. Keep sending me letters about it.”_

“ _Yes, Aunt Mira.”_

_A week later, Bilbo found himself bent over his back garden, a good plot put aside._

_There he was, bent over soft soil, in his hand an oak leaf, a few strands of his hair, a few strands of Thorin’s hair from his hairbrush, a piece from both of their clothes, and an acorn, ready to be planted into a child._

_Muttering a prayer to Yavannah, Bilbo lowered it in the ground. As he covered it with soil, Bilbo muttered a short prayer._

_Miles away, in the mountains of Ered Luin, Thorin rubbed his chest._

“ _Are you all right Thorin?”_

_Fili was looking at him, concerned._

“ _Aye,” said Thorin, “it’s nothing.”_

_It wasn’t nothing. He was having the Urge, to carve out a child. A direction from Mahal. But he was far away from his husband, and he found no stone that he could truly connect to._

_Resigning himself to the discomfort, Thorin bent over the desk and taught Fili about the relations between different Dwarven families._

* * *

The Refuges of Erebor were no stranger to human villages and cities. Every muscle that could be spared had worked for men. They had toiled till their breath gave away, and the men never paid them fairly. Though no one in the right mind would call the dwarves slaves, all knew that it was just the lack of the word. That was how dwarves and men had lived together.

However, the village on the bank of the lake was unlike any other settlement Thorin had ever seen. It was a temporary settlement. The men and dwarves worked together. If men carried the load, the dwarves took care of revenue. There was laughter among the species as if they were equals. It almost reminded Thorin of Bree.

“I have heard of no such settlement,” said Balin, pulling back from where they had hidden and looking at Thorin, “The only town of men is the lake-Town.”

Bilbo craned his neck, “Is there another dwarf settlement around here?”

“Not before Iron Hills,” said Fili, “We have heard Dain complain about being the only Dwarven settlement for ages. He never mentioned a village.”

Thorin grunted, “Dain might not know of every settlement under the sun.”

Balin nodded, “True, very true.”

“What ought to do we do?” asked Dwalin, “Walk in and ask for help?”

“They are settled on the edge of Elvenking’s realm,” said Thorin, “I do not know if they are friend or foe.”

“They are dwarves, laddie,” said Balin, “We don’t turn away to our own kind.”

Nobody contested that. But there were men, and Durin’s folk were not very open to men or Elves. He wanted to ask for help, but the village looked too good to be true.

“The Elves have sent their barrels!”

The Company turned at the shout. There, far away from the village, closer to where the Company was hidden, a young dwarf was holding one of the barrels they had travelled into.

A man walked over, a quiver set over his shoulder. He bent over to examine the barrel and exchanged a few quick words with the young dwarf before suddenly standing up and holding his bow tightly.

“They have noticed the arrow marks on the barrel,” said Balin, “I say we approach them. They have a barge.”

Thorin did not agree, but he could see no other way. With great reluctance, he nodded his head. Balin immediately stood up and straightened his robes. Everyone followed suit, getting up and garnering attention.

Both the dwarf and the man turned towards the undergrowth, weapons drawn. Balin emerged first, hand up in surrender and a gentle smile on his face. “Excuse me, but you’re from lake-Town, are you not?”

The man and the dwarf shared a glance, where the dwarf shrugged. The man pulled his arrow and asked, “What is it to you?”

“Well, that barge wouldn’t be available for hire, by any chance?”

As he was met with confused and worried stares, Balin added, “We are simple merchants from blue Mountains, journeying to see our kin in iron Hills.”

“We?” questioned the dwarf.

The Company began to fill out one by one, having gotten drier. Both man and dwarf became even more careful as the Company filtered out.

Thorin looked at the young dwarf. He couldn’t be older than Kili, with wisps like that. His hair was braidless, but it was more of a choice to make work easier rather than some sort fo dishonour. His hair was clutched in one large braid, just to indicate his status as a free dwarf. He wore modest clothes that had clearly seen much better days, yet the copper and iron jewellery on him indicated a higher social position. Why he was working with a man, then, Thorin had no idea.

“You have taken the wrong path,” said the dwarf, slowly lowering his axe, “The road to Iron Hills goes south of the Woodland Realm.”

“That way is too long, laddie,” Balin said with a smile, “And we were hoping to reach there before winter.”

“This path is too dangerous,” said the young dwarf, “You will be dead before you even reach halfway.”

“And that is why we need food, supplies, weapons,” said Thorin, getting in front, “Can you help us?”

The dwarf stared at him as if trying to piece out a puzzle. He looked up at the man as he pulled down his bow and arrow. He reached down to touch the barrel and frowned.

“You came with these barrels?”

“is it important?”

The man frowned, “I know where these barrels come from, Master Dwarf. I don’t know what business you had with the Elves, but I don’t think it ended well.”

“No one enters Lake-town but by the leave of the Master,” said the bargeman, “All his wealth comes from trade with the Woodland Realm. He would see you in irons before risking the wrath of King Thranduil.”

Saying so, he turned to the dwarf and said, “Load the barrels.”

The dwarf sighed, sending an apologetic look to the Company. But he obeyed. Balin turned to look at Thorin, who just said, “Offer him more.”

“I’ll wager there are ways to enter that town unseen.”

The Dwarf laughed, “Indeed. It’s a nice swim, and I am sure if you can survive riding the barrels, you can survive that.”

Balin sighed. He walked up to where the Dwarf was loading barrels and in a low voice, said, “Laddie, we are dwarves. Of the same father. We need to get into the town. Help us.”

He paused, looking at him with pity, “I can understand, but the Master already has eyes on every dwarf that goes in and out. Thirteen new dwarves and that Halfling would surely catch an eye.”

“Then lead us unseen. Smuggle us in.”

He shook his head. “I would not risk my own head, even if it is for our own kin.”

“We will pay you double.”

Thorin’s declaration gave pause to all. The man looked at him dubiously as the dwarf raised an eyebrow.

“We will not be fooled,” he said strongly, and Thorin was suitably impressed.

Balin said, “No fooling, only fair trade.”

The Man looked at the dwarf, eyebrow raised. They seemed to share a non-verbal communication, and Thorin couldn’t help but notice that the man was following the dwarf’s direction. Either the Dwarf was the actual master, or the man held him in high regard.

* * *

The lake was cold, and Fili could feel the chill up his bones. He huddled in a corner, Kili by his side. The young dwarf kept glancing at them suspiciously but said nothing, curled on to himself.

Fili turned to Kili and gestured towards the boy. Kili gave him a quick smile, catching on his line of thought before both the brothers were crawling to the dwarf.

He looked at them in alarm. Undeterred by his nature, the princes took charge.

“Fili,”

“And Kili.”

The dwarf frowned at them, before grunting, “Vorin.”

“You seem not much older than Kili here,” Fili remarked, “He has barely passed his seventy-fifth year.”

Vorin looked at Kili’s chin and snorted, “Aye. I have just passed my sixty-seventh.”

“Where are you from?” Kili asked excitedly, “Iron hills?”

The dwarf let out a chuckle that sounded as if he was laughing on their foolishness. “No. We are nomads, no home to call for our own.”

Fili and Kili exchanged a glance over the dwarf’s heads. Yes, there were wandering Dwarves, but they were more often than not refuges of Erebor, or even Khazad-Dum.

“But you must have belonged somewhere.”

Vorin paused at the question, judging the brother, “Aye, we did.”

Fili took a chance, “Will I be too bold in assuming that you are from Erebor.”

The young dwarf looked at Fili. He looked impressed at his skills, and Fili felt rather foolish, trying to impress someone younger than him. But he was awarded soon as a sad smile graced his lips, “Never seen the inside of that mountain. Have grown up on stories of the beautiful halls of our forefathers.”

“We too,” Kili said with a grin.

At Vorin’s confused stare, he explained, “Our uncle was there when the calamity came.”

They did not need to define which calamity. Vorin’s eyes widened at the revelation. Fili silently pointed towards Thorin, and the young dwarf’s mouth fell open.

It was not a pleasant topic, so Fili said, “So, what brings you to work for this man?”

He shook his head as if just realizing that Fili and Kili were by his side, “Oh, well, my father has been good friends with the men. We work for them, they pay us. Bard is a very old friend.”

Kili looked at the man sailing the barge, “He looks rather grumpy.”

“He is worried, that’s all.”

Before Fili could open his mouth to say something else, the dwarves around him began to freeze. Both Fili and Kili turned.

There, shrouded by the haze, stood the Lonely Mountain. Fili could feel his heart fasten at seeing the mountain so close.

Stories of childhood felt inadequate. It was yet far away, yet Fili could feel the call of home. All his life, he had moved with his Amad and Thorin, getting work. Up until a few decades ago, they had no real home to call their own. Even after Thorin’s Halls were made, Fili still felt it was just temporary.

Erebor, though, Erebor felt far too real, even though he hadn’t seen the inside.

“As a fellow Durin’s folk, I have an advice for you,” Vorin said slowly, catching both Fili and Kili’s attention, “Move quick, don’t stop till you see the greenery on the other side. While this road might be short, it’s still filled with perils. And the last thing we need is for that dragon to wake up.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHAHA! Yesssss, things are changing. Canon is now going to take a huge plunge, though it had done that a long time ago with my fic. The next few chapters are the hardest to write, and with midterms here updating might be irregular, but I do hope you stick around.
> 
> Also, I am gonna just say- next chapter might, *might* get angsty. Just wanna warn you ahead of time. :)


	15. Stand for and with you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE HAVE OVER 100 BOOKMARKS, AND WE ARE SOON GONNA REACH 500 KUDOS AAAAAAH! Guys thank you so so much! I love your reponses so much and your comments make my day thank you thank you!
> 
> having said that, this chapter is particularly angsty...so, brace yourself. TW, in End notes with description to avoid spoilers. And....a lot happens here. So, brace yourself.

Bilbo had been to Bree. He had seen Men. He had, however, never seen a city just made up of men.

Having grown up on stories from all over Arda, he imagined it would be grand and huge. After seeing Rivendell, Bilbo thought that men would make their cities and towns like that. Towering, clean, tales of battles etched on their roads.

Lake-Town was not at all like anything he had expected.

Conjusted, dirty and not an inch to breathe. Bilbo truly felt his size in the town. Calling him halfling made a little more sense, though nothing he was ever truly going to accept.

It was an adventure, getting to Bard’s house, but an adventure he would never want to relieve ever again in his life.

Barrels, fishes, almost getting tossed into the ocean, praying to whatever Valar would listen that Thorin not jump out when the man- Alfrid, Bard had called him- insulted Vorin.

As they all crawled out Bard’s toilet- and oh sweet Yavannah what wouldn’t he give to forget that- Bilbo walked into the house of the bargeman.

It was small, dirty and with every pace overlapping. Much like the town itself.

“Who are these?”

Shivering to himself, Bilbo looked up at another dwarf. This dwarf was different, looking like Dori in his built. The only noticeable difference was the scarcity of beard, which instead of being full fell into two thin golden braids on either side.

“Reya!” Vorin excitedly walked up to the dwarf, “May I present to you, merchants from the Blue Mountains.”

The dwarf, Reya, shot glares at each and every one of the dwarfs before turning to Bard, “And what are they doing here?”

Somehow, ever after their whole adventure, Balin still had a level head, “Just to go to Iron Hills, lass.”

It was then that Bilbo realized that the dwarf was actually a dam. Blinking to himself, Bilbo tried to find a difference between her and any other dwarf, but with the layers all Dwarves wore and the facial hair they had, it was truly hard to make a difference.

She must have noticed him staring, for she turned to glare at him. Bilbo immediately lowered his gaze, heat climbing upon his cheeks.

She looked at them suspiciously, before pulling Vorin away. Bilbo sat down on a wooden chair, getting rid of his damp clothes. Like everyone else, he was staring at the two dwarves inside the man’s home.

They were talking in hushed voices and she looked agitated. She did not glance towards them, but there was a level of discomfort that even Bilbo could see. They were talking Khudzul, but from the way Bofur and Bifur were frowning, they did not understand it at all.

Balin, however, looked like he understood every bit, and looked even slightly surprised. Dwalin and Thorin were exchanging hurried words, much like the two dwarves on the other side of the house.

Meanwhile, the man and the children had started pulling out small clothes for all of them. Bilbo flushed in embarrassment thinking he would have to wear a child’s cloth.

The clinking of coins brought everyone’s attention back to the dwarves. Vorin had pulled out the coins from his pouch and was counting them. Reya’s eyes had widened significantly, and she kept throwing glances at them from the corner of her eyes.

Just as Bilbo stripped to the last of his clothes, leaving the underclothes because he did have some shame and there were children in the house, the eldest daughter came to him with a glass of soup. Bilbo threw her a very grateful smile and thanked her. She smiled, surprised, but nodded back and moved on to the others.

A minute or two later, the two dwarves emerged from wherever they had hidden inside the house- which was hard considering every part of the house was visible- and turned to Bard.

“We are leaving.”

The man, who was busy trying to gather clothes, looked back with a frown. “So soon?”

“Our families except us back before Durin’s Day,” said Reya, and everyone stopped for a moment as she continued, “Adad needs us before the celebrations.”

Before Bard could say something, Balin cut in, “I did not know there were dwarves who still celebrated Durin’s Day before Iron Hills.”

Reya sent him the sharpest of glares, “Shows how much you know of the happenings of the east of Misty Mountains.”

As Balin’s face fell, Vorin added, “There is always much to learn, isn’t it Reya?”

The dwarf looked like she wanted to throttle Vorin, much like how Thorin looked when Fili and Kili did something stupid, “You must leave early. And do not stop until you see greenery on the other side. You have chosen the harder path, do make it any worse for you.”

Ignoring Vorin’s ‘I already told them’, Reya turned to Bard and said, “Father had told us what supplies you would need. Expect a shipment a week or so after.”

Bard smiled, “Say hello to that dwarf for me. And tell him I challenge him to a round of arrows when we meet next.”

For the first time, Bilbo saw a smile on her face, “Bard, do not embarrass yourself.”

Ignoring the laughs of the children, Bard said, “One of these days you will accept that I am a better marksman.”

“When the dragon awakens, sure.”

The Company stiffened, but the others did not notice. The two dwarves bid their goodbyes and left, sparing not one glance at the Company.

Bilbo huddled close to where Balin, thorin, Fili and Kili were.

“Do you think you can trust them?” Kili asked slowly.

“We do not need to trust anyone,” said Balin, “We need to make haste.”

“If the dragon is indeed alive, we need to warn these dwarrows,” said Fili, a certain edge in his voice, “They were from Erebor.”

Thorin nodded, “Many groups scattered after Smaug came. Some came after they heard of Ered Luin, some went on to Iron Hills. I would not be surprised if some live near here. But we do not know where these Dwarves dwell.”

“Perhaps we will see them on our way then?”

Balin sighed, “Let us hope not, laddie. For not many stand with us on this journey, and I do not know if this tribe would fall with us or not.”

“Do they not owe their allegiance to the King?”

“Aye, but it has been a century. Much has changed, and we do not have time. Durin’s Day is just here. We cannot waste any more time.”

Bilbo spotted the man coming and he hurriedly cleared his throat. The chatter between the Durins and their advisor ceased immediately. While Balin gave a little smile to Bilbo, everyone else gave him a cheeky smile.

As Bard handed blankets to everyone, Bilbo took one gratefully and wrapped it around him, willing to follow Thorin as he stared out of a half-open window.

“Bain, get more blankets.”

....................

_The winter was slowly morphing into Spring, and Thorin was not willing to waste any more moments in Ered Luin. The dwarrows held Dis in higher regard anyway, and so with one last farewell, he went off to the Shire._

_The discomfort in his chest only made him go faster. He couldn’t wait to share it with his Husband._

_It took him two weeks to reach Hobbiton. He politely nodded back to anyone who even dared to nod to him. But the need to reach home was far greater than anything else._

_Home. Indeed. Bag End had become a home for Thorin, and not for the structure, but rather for the Hobbit that lived inside._

_The green door was exactly as he had seen it last, and the garden blooming. The bench was clean, much like every day. With a smile, Thorin climbed up the stairs and raised his hands to knock on the door._

_No voice came from inside, except perhaps the sound of footsteps. It should have been the first clue that something was wrong. Bilbo never walked quietly._

_Thorin waited as the door swung open to reveal his Hobbit._

“ _Hello, Ghivashel.”_

_Not a second later, his arms were full of a Hobbit clinging to his neck. Thorin laughed, circling his arms around the shorter Hobbit._

“ _You are here!” he said, half sobbing, half happy, and Thorin couldn’t help but grin as Bilbo pulled back and gave him a smile. There was something lacking in that smile, but Thorin pushed it away as he watched his Husband get back on his feet and pull his things up._

_He let Bilbo babble about the Shire, about a good winter and about his extended family as Thorin followed him around the smial. Everything was exactly the same, and it warmed Thorin’s heart._

_Bilbo excused himself to the kitchen, and Thorin let himself truly breathe in Bag End. He freshened up and once was happy with the placement of his clothes, walked out to find Bilbo._

_But the Hobbit was not in the kitchen, nor in any of the pantries. Confused, Thorin walked to the bathrooms but all were empty. He looked out front, but Bilbo was not there either._

_As he searched the last nook of the smial, Thorin glanced out and found Bilbo bent over in the back garden. Letting out a deep sigh, Thorin walked out with a smile._

_But all of his happiness disappeared when he heard a sob shake Bilbo. He was bent over a freshly toiled piece of land, and his face was buried in his hands. Frowning, Thorin stepped forward, only to see some half-dead plants buried under the soil._

“ _Bilbo?”_

_The Hobbit shook his head, crying even more loudly. Thorin knew that Bilbo cared for his plants, but he was sure it never quite reached this level._

_As he lay a hand on Bilbo’s shoulder, the Hobbit turned and wrapped his arms around Thorin._

“ _I, I am so sorry, Tho-Thorin. Should’ve waited. I am sorry. I am so sorry.”_

_Thorin had absolutely no idea what his Husband was apologizing for, but he still wrapped his arms around the Hobbit. As he slowly cradled his curly head, Thorin couldn’t help but stare at the fallen flower. Not fresh, but not decayed. Something, that would have recently fallen. A day or two at most._

_It was much later, huddled in front of the fireplace when Bilbo told Thorin about it. The urge, the planting of a seed that could grow into a child._

_A white flower, telling him of a Hobbit lass. Oh, how well it had grown. The stems were strong, the leaves green against the dreary sky of winter. Bilbo had already thought of a name- Edis. It would be her Hobbit name. She would get a dwarven name too, for her heritage, that Thorin would give her._

_It was growing so well. Bilbo was sure that by the time Thorin would come, there would be more flowers. He would see the child growing under the soil._

_He was hoping for too much. A few days before Thorin’s arrival, the plant just drooped. Nothing that Bilbo could do would save it. It did not seem ready to survive after winter._

_As Bilbo cried in his arms, Thorin did not know what to say. So he held him tight and pressed a kiss over his head. The own discomfort from his chest was disappearing, and he knew it would go before the night was over._

_Thorin closed his eyes shut, feeling the loss as he had done all his life, and keeping the truth of another to himself, for Bilbo had suffered enough._

_If Mahal and Yavannah would want, they would have another. If not, then Thorin was content with his One._

* * *

The sharp noise of wood falling on wood brought everyone’s attention to Bilbo. The Hobbit stood there, his warm soup spilt on the floor. His eyes were wide, as he stared at where Bard and his son stood.

Fili and Bofur were immediately by his side. They held him, shaking him as his lips trembled. But long before he gathered his wits and shook his head.

“Oh, I am terribly sorry,” muttered Bilbo, bending over and picking the cup, “Do you have a rag? I will just clean it up. So terribly rude of me, dropping food. I am very sorry.”

Bard said nothing, but his eldest was soon beside Bilbo, “It’s all right, Master Hobbit. I will clean it up.”

“Oh, no no, I will do it. I made the mess.”

But Sigrid was having none of that. “Tilda, take the glass and fill it up again. Please drink some soup. I will take care of this.”

Bilbo opened his mouth to protest, but everything was already in motion. Fili pulled him up and lead him to the bed, looking at him with concern. Your Tilda gave him a wooden bowl with soup, and Bilbo thanked her profusely. He ignored the worried looks and dug in.

When the son came back with blankets, he handed two to Fili. He was suspicious of these creatures but still stood back to look at Bilbo in concern.

“Are you...all right?”

Bilbo looked up, blinking like an owl. “Me? Oh, yes, I am splendid. It was just...an accident.”

Bain said nothing but nodded. He turned, ready to move on to others when a soft voice said, “It’s a lovely name. Bain.”

Bain turned, slightly confused. He shrugged, passing on the blankets to the other dwarves, “My ma picked out our names.”

“Sig says he is named Bain because he was the bane of everyone’s existence,” Tilda chirped happily, ignorant of the embarrassed looks her siblings sent her, “Da says Bain cried the loudest.”

“Tilda!” Sigrid scolded lightly as Bain blushed and continued with his work. The dwarves chuckled at the childishness, and let the hot food warm up their bellies.

* * *

The dwarves were soon ready to march, but Bard advised against it. Though grudgingly, everyone accepted. He promised to get them weapons early next morn, and then the night that followed they could leave for their journey.

Balin concluded that it was enough time. They were not at ease, but they could spare a few days before reaching the mountain. The Company agreed though Bilbo remained eerily quiet.

Kili tried to rope Bilbo into talk of Elves, but Bilbo just patted his cheek and told him that he was tired. Fili tried to tell him tales, but no more than a shadow of a smile passed through his face. Even Bofur’s antics with the others did not cheer him up. Eventually, he just asked Bard for some open-air, and Bard showed him to a small terrace that would hide him well.

As soon as Bilbo disappeared through the door, Fili turned to Thorin.

“What is the matter with him?”

Thorin smiled sadly, looking at the close door, “Old wounds, Fili. The ones that do not ever heal.”

“Can’t we do something?”

He shook his head, “Let him be.”

The hour passed, and Bilbo remained out. Worried of the snow that had begun to fall, the dwarves all looked at Thorin expectantly. Even Balin nudged him in the middle of their discussion.

For his part, Thorin did not sigh or express anger. He nodded and took off to meet Bilbo.

The terrace was truly small, barely big enough for both Thorin and Bilbo. He wondered what the men used it for, but shook his head away of those thoughts.

Bilbo sat with his back to the door, his eyes fixed upon the stars, his knees drawn close to his chest.

“Bilbo.”

To his credit, Bilbo was not surprised. He did not make a sound, nor did he move. The only indication that he heard was a slight movement of his head.

“You’ll catch a cold,” said Thorin, “Come inside.”

“I hate winters,” muttered Bilbo.

Thorin walked up to him, slowly dropping his head over Bilbo’s, “I know, _ghivahsel,_ I know.”

“Even rain isn’t this bad,” muttered Bilbo.

He said nothing, just trying to comfort his Hobbit.

“He is a lovely boy,” Bilbo suddenly said, “Hard worker, definitely a believer. He will do good.”

Thorin placed his palm over Bilbo’s chest and said, “I know it hurts, Bilbo. But it’s gone. It can’t harm you. It’s just a name.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth did Thorin regret it. Bilbo turned stiff in his arms, almost unmoving.

“Just a name?” his voice was barely a whisper, and Thorin slowly stood up as Bilbo turned to stare him down with an icy glare, “ _just a name_?”

Thorin gulped, praying for any sort of help over his foolish mouth. To his utmost surprise, Bilbo turned passive, his face devoid of any emotion.

“Well, I guess you are right,” he said, and Thorin frowned, “Just a name, you are right. Like Frerin, isn’t it?”

Thorin’s knuckles turned white from how hard he clutched them, “Do not bring him into this.”

“What? It is just a name, isn’t it? Like Thror, Tharin, Fris, right? Just a name.” Bilbo said coldly.

“Do not disrespect them,” Thorin hissed, almost nose to nose with Bilbo, “They had lived.”

“ _And so had Bain!”_ retorted back Bilbo, enough bite in his voice to scare the Dwarves, “Just because you forgot him it does not erase his existence!”

“Forgot?” demanded Thorin, “You think I have forgotten?”

“You have clearly never cared!” spat Bilbo, “You did not care to give him a name!”

“What good has that name given you, except bring you pain?”

“So you would rather invalidate the very existence of your son than actually grieve? Oh, bloody brilliant!”

Bilbo turned, tears prickling the corner of his eyes.

“He had barely lived.” came a whisper from Thorin.

“And Edis did not live at all,” Bilbo said in an emotionless voice, “But that does not mean that you, Thorin Oakenshield, get to forget that they even existed. They are buried in Bag End, a stone _with their names_ that you etched in their memory. So do not forget that now!”

Without another word, Bilbo stalked inside the house. Thorin stayed outside, allowing his tears to fall.

* * *

_Going back to normalcy after an experience is impossible. For the world moves on. The sun still rises, the cows still moo, the eggs and milk in the market continue to sell, the seasons come and go as they were to. Some die, others live. The disputes come to the King, the tenants pay their rent to the Master._

_Bag End, however, changed. The dwarf still came for half a year, and the other half the Hobbit lived alone. But instead of music that filled the smial, a silence followed the couple. At first, it was unbearable, but as time passed it slowly changed into something more. Once or twice, laughter could be heard from in there, but mostly, a strain remains behind._

_Two winters pass like that, and the couple slowly learnt to live with an opportunity gone. A part of the back garden remains barren, nothing ever planted there. The couple healed for their love was strong. They began to laugh more often, and smile, and sing. One birthday party of Bilbo Baggins, Thorin Baggins stayed behind._

_Everybody agreed that Master Baggins looked the happiest._

_It was on one fine Spring day after Thorin had come back to the Shire that their lives changed once more. Bilbo Baggins had gone to the market with his husband, and while he set up the forge, Bilbo went around buying groceries. Somewhere in the middle of all of that, Bilbo Baggins fainted._

_When he woke up, he was met face to face with his Aunt Mira who had come to meet Bilbo and his Husband, the said Huband leaning over worriedly and a healer going around with her business._

“O _h dear,” muttered Bilbo, “What happened?”_

“Y _ou fainted,” Thorin said, and Bilbo could hear the worry in his voice, “in the middle of the marketplace.”_

_Bilbo nodded. His head was rioting. His stomach was flipping. He was not feeling well at all._

“ _I am sure it’s a flu,” he muttered, “Right Aunt Mira?”_

“ _uh-huh” she shook her head, “Bilbo Baggins, you are expecting a babe.”_

_ Both Thorin and Bilbo froze. Thorin lumped down on the chair, eyes wide as Bilbo blinked owlishly.  _

“ _I...Forgive me, what?”_

_Mirabella looked at Bilbo and Thorin’s confused expression, “Now lad, I know poor Mr Oakenshield knows nothing of this, but you know of Took’s oddities.”_

“ _I am a Baggins!”_

_The former Took tutted, “Your mother was a Took, do not forget that.”_

_The three sat in silence before Bilbo spoke up._

“ _I am with child.”_

“ _Yes.”_

“ _How far along?”_

“ _Very early, lad. Don’t you worry!”_

“ _Aunt Mira, my- our Harvest has failed only a few winters ago.”_

_Mira nodded sadly, “I know laddie. Lady Yavannah is giving you another chance.”_

“ _Wait,” Thorin spoke up, “You said my husband is, is with child? As in, within his body?”_

_Admanta nodded, “Yes, Master Dwarf. Took oddities, we have many.”_

“ _How...how does it even work?”_

_She raised an eyebrow, “Well, I am sure you two have been enjoying yourself enough in the bedroom. Do I need to explain more?”_

_By the reddened faces, she did not._

_With a sigh, she stood up, “You may feel ill, dear Bilbo. Do not fret. I will move in with you soon enough. Master Dwarf, I do not care what work comes up in that mountain of yours, you will be here when dear Bilbo is to give birth. Do I make myself clear?”_

_Both nodded._

“G _ood,” she said with a smile, “Now this asks for a feast, won’t you say Bilbo?”_

* * *

Later, Fili would blame Gloin. He was the one who insisted that they break out of the man’s home late at night when everybody would be asleep, go to the forge to gather some weapons and take a boat and run away. Bilbo was their burglar, he had already stolen from the Elvenking, how hard would it be to actually steal from men?

Problem was, Bilbo looked murderous and sad all at once. Fili did not know how, but he managed that. As for Thorin, he looked like he was moving towards another of his episodes. Whatever Bilbo and Thorin had talked about, it had clearly not ended well.

But everybody could feel it in their nerves. Erebor was so close, and Durin’s day was just upon them. They could not waste a lot of time. Despite what Balin had said, everything in their journey so far had told them that whatever could go wrong would go wrong.

So with a half-aware burglar, a leader who needed to rest and a Company who were far too loud on their feet, they sneaked out of the bargeman’s house.

Really, Fili should not have been surprised when they were caught and were being led to the Master’s house. Really, he shouldn’t have.

“What is the meaning of this?”

The Master was large and loud, and exactly how a master of the town would look.

“We caught them stealing weapons, sire,” said the guard.

The master sneered, “Did I not say this was good when only men stayed here. Enemies of the state, eh?”

“A desperate bunch of mercenaries, if ever there was one, Sire,” said the right-hand man of the Master. It was the same man who had almost caught them. Alfrid, Bard had called him.

“Hold your tongue!” growled Dwalin, stepping forward, “You do not know to whom you speak. This is no common criminal. This is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror.”

A murmur broke into the crowd. Many had seen the dwarves that had come into the town that day. They knew these were new dwarves, not the ones they were used to.

“We are the Dwarves of Erebor,” said Thorin, “We have come to reclaim our homeland.”

Fili just stepped back and listened to his Uncle give a speech of great town of old. He had heard enough speeches in his youth to know what Thorin was going to say. The broad outline remained the same.

From the corner of his eyes, he could see Kili desperately trying to hide his laughter. Fili had to look away. He was the heir, he needed to be stoic. Nothing that Thorin said was exactly a lie. It was a mere exaggeration and both the princes were used to that.

It was Bard’s loud proclamation of 'death' which shocked everyone, the men and dwarves alike. Until very recently he was a friend, and suddenly, he was speaking against them. Given, they had not been entirely truthful to him.

“That is what you will bring upon us,” said Bard, stepping up, “Dragon fire and ruin. If you waken that beast, it will destroy us all.”

Before Thorin could open his mouth, Bard turned to everyone, “Some of you were alive when the Dragon burnt the last remnants of our town. Seventy years ago, Lake-Town was once more burnt to the crisp. Halder still bears those burns on his arms, and every bargeman or fisherman crosses the ruins of those stone halls. The stories that our parents told us were not mere tales, but memories.”

He turned to Thorin, breathing heavily, “That is what you promise to bring back.”

“If we succeed,” said Thorin, turning to all, “all will share the wealth in that mountain. You will have enough gold to rebuild Esgaroth ten times over.”

The crowd cheered. Bard looked around in despair, and Fili felt bad for him. He was not wrong, being cautious.

“Why should we take you at your word?” asked Alfrid, making everyone silent, “We know nothing about you. Who here can vouch for your character?”

“Me.”

It was a small whisper. The company turned to Bilbo, who still looked tired to his bones. Even Thorin turned to him, shocked and surprised.

Bilbo stepped up, looking at everyone with an air of authority. Something Fili had never quite seen before, but what he could see Bilbo be. Thorin, despite his hesitation, looked proud as Bilbo addressed the crowd and the master at once.

“I can vouch for Thorin Oakenshield,” he said, not meeting Thorin’s eyes, “I have known him since I reached my majority, and I have travelled far with him and his Company. If he gives his word, then he will keep it. Thorin Oakenshield does not say empty words; he gives promises, and he keeps them.”

The crowd once again cheered, and Fili felt an odd sort of pride deep within his heart. What Bilbo said was true, and the way he said it was enough to even make Fili believe, though he already did that.

“All of you!” shouted Bard, “listen to me! Have you forgotten what happened mere seventy years ago? Or for that matter, to Dale? Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm? And for what purpose? The blind ambition of a Mountain King, so riven by greed, he could not see beyond his own desire!”

“Now, now,” said the Master, “None of us must be so quick to lay blame. Let us not forget that it was Girion, lord of dale, your ancestor, who failed to kill the beast.”

Bard looked pained, as if he wanted to say something, but pulled himself back. He instead marched up to Thorin and said, “You have no right. No right to enter that Mountain.”

To everyone’s utmost surprise, Bard let out a laugh. “You stayed safe, far away from this land, while those who remained behind toiled and fought that dragon over and over again. What right do you have to enter that mountain while those who were left behind never dared to?”

Instead of answering Bard, Thorin turned to the master, “I speak to the master of the Men of the Lake. Will you see the prophecy fulfilled? Will you share in the great wealth of our people? What say you?”

the moment stretched as everyone held their breath. The Master looked giddy, but his word could turn the tide in or against their favour. Fili too held his breath as the Master opened his mouth.

“I say unto you,” said the Master, “Welcome! And thrice welcome King under the Mountain!”

Bard glared at him, before turning and staring at the Company once.

“I wish you all the best,” said Bard, “For I have considered Dwarves my friend. But shall he bring ruin our people, you will gain an enemy of the men and Dwarves alike.”

With another word, bard stormed off, leaving behind a confused Company and a cheering crowd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Character death, Death of a child, miscarriage (sort of?)   
> umm, I am sorry?


	16. Walk to your Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last night in Lake-Town- featuring: no communication between the married couple, worried dwarves, high dwarves, hungover dwarves and a fluctuating moody Dwarf King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE! EARLY UPDATE!  
> As we grow closer to the end of Desolation of Smaug, let me just say, I can't stop my fingers. It's so bloody exciting!
> 
> Much is going to change in further chapters. Angst overload- beacuse we all remember BOTFA. Flashbacks will probably come to an end very soon, before the actual battle starts for sure. I have technically written down all the chapters that come next, but much has changed since then so I might take some time.
> 
> Also, on a personal note, I have been going through shit. This story has literally been the only think taking me forward. So yes, i am going to finish this, but i might take my sweet time. Hopefully, unlike y other works I won't take long breaks.
> 
> Without any further ado, to the chapter!

There was a celebratory dinner that night. Bilbo kept his mouth shut as he saw the Master make merry with Thorin. The Dwarf King smiled and handled the man well enough. But it was Balin who did the talking. Indeed, he was well suited for diplomacy. Bilbo was resisting the urge to hit the man.

The whole place was in an uproar, and Bilbo was barely able to keep his wits together. The dwarrows were all having the time of their lives. Dwalin was engaged in a drinking contest with Nori, and Bifur and Dori were muttering in Khudzul. The rest of the Company were busy stuffing their faces.

Fili and Kili were missing, and Bilbo did not even want to think where they could have gone off to. Deep in his heart, he worried about the boys, but there were older wounds which had been scratched open.

Unable to bear the pompous celebration of Men, Bilbo excused himself. The company sent him worrying looks. Thorin glanced at him, a frown etched on his face. Bilbo did not have the energy to deal with any of mahal’s children, so he quickly assured everyone and walked out of the master’s house.

Contrary to the morning, when the whole town was bursting with activity, at night there was a quiet in the air. Lake-Town was unique. Unlike anything Bilbo had ever seen. He could understand the reluctance and the non-existent appeal, but as men had moved to shores and closed themselves behind doors, Bilbo could see how beautiful it looked.

There was something very peculiar in the way men made their cities. It was not like the cosy homes of Hobbits, or beautiful palaces like that of Elves, or even what he thought Dwarven homes could be like.

The houses, if painted in brighter colours, could be beautiful. Some of the structures could be made from stone, just to be durable. Men were good swimmers, Bilbo knew that.

“...before those dwarves leave for the mountain.”

Bilbo froze. While walking around, Bilbo had somehow reached the docks. A great worry etched itself into Bilbo’s heart at hearing about the dwarrows. He recognized the voice- it was Bard. But whatever could the man be up to?

Gathering the last of his courage, Bilbo quietly made his way to the corner and stole a glance.

Indeed, as he suspected, Bard stood there. His own girls and a few other families crowded around. They were quietly loading their things on a few boats, and the man on the dock gate had opened the gate just enough for boats to pass through.

“We will have till midday tomorrow, if not more,” Bard said quietly, “I will be able to get all women out of here by then.”

The man nodded, “I will take care of your children, do not worry. Anything from the Elves?”

Bard nodded, “A missive. For me and our friend up there. Our work is to safeguard this city, not worry about the dwarves.”

The man placed a hand on Bard’s shoulder. Bilbo could not see his face, but he assumed that the man smiled as did Bard, “You are doing well, Bard. You do not have to stay back.”

“One arrow remains, Percy,” said Bard, “And it belongs to me. We have been preparing for this for ages.”

There was silence as the man pulled back, looking at the people sitting in the boats.

“Bain won’t come?”

“He wishes to stay until everyone is safe.”

He was definitely worried, but there was certain fondness and pride in Bard’s voice as he said so.

Bilbo ignored the flutter in his stomach and watched from his hiding spot as everyone settled down in the boat. Bard gave a quick nod to Percy. He settled down and signed something. One by one, the few boats began to row away. The gate opened just a bit more, making no noise.

Bard watched them go, before turning to his son and whispering something. The boy nodded and scurried away.

Testing his luck, Bilbo walked out of his hiding spot and gently walked towards the man. He knew Bard had heard him, considering the twitch in his head, but Bilbo remained quiet and stopped at a respectable distance.

“What do you want?”

Bilbo did not blame the man for his hostile tone. But that was no reason for being rude if he was being completely honest. Bilbo huffed and crossed his arms, “Well, just, what exactly are you doing?”

“Why must I tell you anything?” demanded Bard, turning around and glaring at Bilbo “I warned you, you decided to not heed it.”

Bilbo let out a deep breath. The man was worried. Wise to do so, Bilbo believed.

“Master Bard,” began Bilbo slowly, “It’s their home. My dwarrows deserve to get their home back. We can be allies again, men and dwarves. It will be just fine.”

“And what if it’s not?” asked Bard, “What if the Dragon kills you before you even get a chance to defeat them?”

“The dragon could be dead. It has been years, after all.”

The huff that Bard gave made his opinion on the matter very clear, “I will assure you, Master Hobbit, that dragon is very much alive.”

The certainty in Bard’s voice worried him. “You seem very sure of yourself.”

Bard gave him a look, “I am. And tomorrow, you will unleash that terror on us. While this chat has been very interesting, kindly excuse me; I must prepare for the worst.”

With that, Bard turned and left. Bilbo watched him go. Bilbo stood frozen on his spot, worried and confused. Just as Bard disappeared around the corner, a beacon was lit over Bard’s house.

He needed to discuss certain things with certain dwarves.

* * *

“Silvertongue? Are you sure laddie?”

Bilbo nodded. Balin hummed and chewed on his pipe. Dwalin had his arms crossed, looking worried and Thorin looked...well, as he always did.

As soon as he had come back, Bilbo was immediately cornered by Thorin. He wanted to speak with him, converse about their words. But Bilbo did not have the patience nor the time to truly delve onto the past. Instead, he politely asked Thorin to fetch Balin and Dwalin, for there was something to discuss. Thorin had done so at once.

They listened to his tale of what the Elves had said, and what Bard had said on the docks with a keen ear. Once done, Bilbo sat on the bed, looking from one dwarf to another.

“Well?” he finally asked when the silence became unbearable, “Do you have any idea who could it be?”

“It sounds like a moniker,” said Dwalin, looking at Thorin, “That is not a name of Men.”

Balin nodded, “Aye. It could be a man...or a dwarf.”

Thorin got up and began to pace, “A dwarf and an elf? That is very troubling.”

“A dwarf, an elf and a man,” corrected Balin, “Though we are getting ahead of ourselves. It could just be another man.”

Thorin huffed, “It’s a very Dwarven moniker, Balin, you would know.”

Bilbo raised an eyebrow, “What...does that mean?”

“Our father, Fundin, was called the Silvertongue or Erebor,” Dwalin said proudly, though there was a hint of sadness in his voice, “Balin takes after him.”

Balin merely rolled his eyes but did not disagree. His cheeks were tinted red with the praise “We know that there is a settlement of dwarrows, somewhere close. But then there are also villages of Men.”

“Villages of men,” said Dwalin, “Nothing big. The biggest settlement closest to us is Iron hills.”

Thorin suddenly shook his head, “Dain would not betray us. I would know if he had sided with the Elves.”

“Our alliance is still new, Thorin,” said Balin, “There was a long time when Iron hills and Ereborian dwarves were sworn enemies.”

“Our Grandfather’s mistakes do not define us,” growled Thorin, “Dain has been nothing but an ally.”

“Yet he failed to come on this quest.”

“I do not blame him. It’s a perilous task.”

“We are getting off-topic,” said Balin hurriedly, standing between Dwalin and Thorin. He shook his head and said, “There’s someone called Silvertongue who has been working with Elves and Men alike, and we need to figure out who.”

“We will, after our home is reclaimed,” Thorin said. Bilbo opened his mouth to argue, but Thorin immediately cut in, “Bard was not able to stop us, neither were the Elves. This Silvertongue could try. His weapon of choice is clearly his words. He will not deter me from my quest.”

“While that’s all right laddie, Fili said they were of Erebor,” said Balin, stroking his beard, “And the two dwarves that we did meet were very insistent that we get to Iron hills fast enough.”

“But no dwarf of Erebor would actually make merry with Elves!” said Dwalin, “All knew of the betrayal of Mirkwood.”

“Survival is more important than old wounds, Dwalin,” said Balin, “And from what Bilbo says, you must notice something.”

Everyone looked blankly at Balin, even Bilbo. No matter how much he racked his brain, he could not think of what the older dwarf was talking about.

“It is not the leaders,” Balin said slowly, looking from one occupant to another, “It was the she-elf who spoke of these words, aye, Bilbo? And from Bilbo says, we can gather than Bard is the bowman. The successor of Girion would be called a bowman, but he is not the lord.”

Thorin crossed his arms. He looked deep in thought. “So you think it’s a company of resistors? Rebels?”

Balin nodded, “It is very much possible. Thorin, we must be careful. There is a colony of dwarves we will surely meet. We need to rally them towards us.”

Thorin nodded, “We will. Whatever this alliance of men, dwarves and Elves exist, we will come to understand it. Here’s what we shall do. Tomorrow, when we embark on our journey; when we meet this company we ask for Silvertongue. I tell him of my lineage.”

“No dwarf in his right mind would go against the heir of Durin, especially no dwarf of Erebor,” Balin said with a pleased smile, “If worst come they refuse, we fight.”

“Against a whole colony?” Bilbo asked with a frown.

“Worry not, master Baggins, we dwarrows are strong,” Dwalin said with a huff, “And if worst comes we will let Fili and Kili loose on them.”

Nobody could stop the spread of smile from their faces. The four went over all things they could do shall one plan fail, and by the end of it, Bilbo felt quite tired. When Balin and Dwalin finally bid their goodbyes to rejoin the feast, Bilbo let out a deep breath.

Just as the door closed, Bilbo realized that he was left alone with Thorin, which was inherently the last thing he wanted to do. He looked at his Husband, but Thorin’s attention was somewhere else.

For the longest moment neither spoke and then;

“Bilbo, I-”

“Thorin-”

Both stopped. They looked at each other, wanting to speak something. But in the end, neither had words.

Bilbo looked down at his hands, playing with his fingers. “You should get back to the feast.”

“Aye,” agreed Thorin, “So should you.”

Bilbo shook his head, “Those tall men...and this water body. I feel rather sick.”

“Are you all right?” Thorin immediately tried to walk up to Bilbo but stopped just as their hands could touch.

With a deep breath, Bilbo nodded. He continued to look down, refusing to meet Thorin’s eyes, “You should...go along.”

Thorin looked as if he would do anything but that. However, he knew of Bilbo’s stubbornness better than anybody. “All right. Will you stay here?”

Bilbo blinked. He hadn’t quite thought of that. “I think...I am going to rather bunk with the boys.”

“As you wish.”

Bilbo stood up and walked out of the room, anything to push away Thorin’s broken voice.

* * *

_Thorin sat on the kitchen table, his hand wrapped around the teacup. The feast that Aunt Mira had prepared was exquisite, but Thorin was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he and Bilbo were given another chance. To be parents._

“ _The tea has gone cold.”_

_Blinking owlishly, Thorin looked down. Indeed, the porcelain cup had gone cold under his palms._

_Bilbo put his hand over Thorin’s, and slowly settled down beside him. He looked at the dwarf. Since the declaration, Thorin had said nothing._

“ _Thorin?”_

“ _Why didn’t you tell me?”_

_Bilbo let out a deep sigh, “I...I did not really think it would affect me. I am not a Took.”_

“ _Well, you are Half-Took. And so is everyone, if we really look at it.”_

_Bilbo opened his mouth, but then promptly closed it. Thorin was right. Of course, he was right._

_A bigger, more calloused hand settled on Bilbo’s softer ones._

“ _I am not displeased, Ghivashel,” said Thorin, “in fact, I...I feel elated. After what happened...”_

_Bilbo gently squeezed Thorin’s hands, a ghost of a smile on his face, “We will be fine Thorin.”_

_Thorin squeezed back, gently resting his head against Bilbo’s. He did not dare voice his own insecurities. Dwarven pregnancy was hard- After Fili Dis had carved Kili. In his own siblings, Dis was the only one who was born rather than carved. He remembered how weak his mother had gotten after her birth._

_But against everything his gut told him, thorin dared to hope. Of a family. Of a life with Bilbo._

_He would do whatever it took._

* * *

Fili and Kili had taken the biggest guest room in the Master’s house, which was on the ground floor. Bilbo knocked on the wooden door, and immediately the laughter ceased.

“Who’s it?” came Fili’s voice.

“It’s, It’s me Fili,” said Bilbo, “Bilbo.”

There were some murmurs. Before Bilbo could contemplate his decision, the door was swung open and Bilbo was dragged inside.

Whatever he had expected, a room full of smoke and dopey dwarves was not one of it.

“Oh dear Yavannah!” Bilbo coughed, “What is this?”

“Bilbo!” exclaimed Kili, and then promptly fell down. Bilbo looked around to see Fili, who had dragged him in, was pushing more leaves into his pipe. Bombur was religiously working in a huge pot and Bofur and Ori were smiling at him.

“What, what is all this?”

“Aye laddie,” Bofur grinned, “Tis a proper party!”

Bilbo blinked, “Are any of you sober?”

A flurry of movement told Bilbo they were not.

“You will end up sleeping late.” he pointed out.

“No worries,” said Bombur, for louder than Bilbo had ever heard him, “Bifur is on it! He will wake us all up!”

Ori smiled, before suddenly sitting up, “Oh dear! If Dori finds out-”

“Relax maboy!” Bofur said, hitting Ori rather strongly on his back, “Bifur is taking care of that too!”

Fili groaned. “Bifur is our saviour.”

“That he is.”

Kili, who had managed to get up during the discussion, dragged Bilbo to the mattress on the floor and made him sit down, before promptly laying down his head on his lap and blowing another ring of smoke.

Coughing, Bilbo said, “Can someone please open the window? Goodness me, I have no idea why but I cannot really handle this. And to think I could best anyone is smoking competitions!”

Ori, the least muddled head one immediately got on his feet and swung open the window. Most of the smoke whisked out, leaving behind a much clearer room.

“All right, why exactly are you all doing this?” demanded Bilbo, having regained some of his speech, “Do you want to see Erebor while dealing with massive headaches? And what leaf is even this?”

“It’s a mixture!” Bombur told him happily, “A bit of Old Toby, some of our dwarven speciality and whatever weed it is that humans smoke.”

Bilbo’s left eye twitched. “Is that safe?”

“Is life safe?” Kili asked philosophically.

Bofur burst out laughing and patted Kili on his leg, “We are going to face a dragon tomorrow, Bilbo. A live Dragon. None of this is safe.”

Ori blew out a perfect ring from where he sat beside Bofur, “I had never had good smoke, so Bofur promised he would let me have one before we get to Erebor. Issue was, getting my brothers off my back.”

“Bifur took care of that part,” Bofur said with a grin, “Though, I have no idea where Nori is.”

“Pining after Dwalin,” Fili said from Bilbo’s other side, his head lying on Bilbo’s shoulder, “I saw him following our guard like a lost puppy just now.”

“Nori and Dwalin?” spluttered Bilbo, “I could never imagine!”

Everyone burst out laughing.

“Oh Bilbo, if only you had gotten a chance from your mooning our dear King,” Ori giggled, far braver than Bilbo had ever seen him, “Nori has been pining over Dwalin since he first caught him.”

“There’s quite a bet going on in the Blue Mountains about who would confess first and when,” Bofur told Bilbo, “So far we have pooled enough money that whichever side wins is going to get much richer.”

Bilbo was unable to stop the smile spreading on his face. Oh, it was quite nice, lying between his nephews as Bofur and Ori smoked in one corner and Bombur, sitting diagonally opposite Bilbo was smoking his own pipe. Even if they all ended up with horrible headaches the next morning.

“All right lads!” Bofur laughed loudly, “So, we were talking about our share of gold!”

A cheer went around the room.

“As the eldest, I am gonna start,” Bofur sat up straight, fell. As everyone laughed, he sat back up, straightened his hat and cleared his throat like an important noble.

“With my share of gold, I will purchase the best wood from those tree shaggers, make furniture and toys, all of the best dwarven make and sell it back so that they can stick it up their asses!”

As a round of cheer went around, Bilbo couldn’t help but notice that Kili only laughed half-heartedly.

“Bombur, you next!”

“Ah, well,” Bombur looked up from the pot, “Spices, from the east and north!”

Fili boohed, “Come on Bombur, something different from food!”

“There is nothing better than food, Fili!” Bombur almost cried.

“Stop making my brother cry you dolt!” laughed Bofur, “Ori, you go next!”

“All right then!” Ori sat all prim and proper, “For one half of my share, I am going to get the biggest diamond in that treasure hoard and make an inkwell out of it.”

Kili coughed. “Inkwell? Seriously Ori? Inkwell?”

“Oh shush!” said Ori, “just because you are a sad dwarf doesn’t mean I have no taste.”

“Oh mahal, save me from this scribe! An inkwell!” laughed Kili.

Ignoring Kili’s laughter, Ori continued, “And then I will commission a beautiful pen with Master Ori the Scribe inscribed upon it.”

“Ambitious,” mused Fili.

“And what you, oh great prince?” Bofur wiggled his eyebrows, “And do not give us the shite of giving it up for the people or something of that sort.”

“Yes, yes!” Ori nodded as if his head would fall off the hinge, “You must have something personal. Just for yourself!”

Fili blushed, “Ah, well...”

“You were thinking of giving everything to Thorin, weren’t ya?” Kili asked, unimpressed.

Ignoring him, Fili said, “I was thinking of making a dress for Amad and threading it with gold.”

“But what about yourself?” demanded Kili, “What for yourself, oh great brother!”

Fili swatted Kili, which he easily ducked, “Perhaps, a fiddle.”

“Now, that’s a lad!” Bofur said enthusiastically.

“And knives!” Fili added with far too maniac a grin that worried Bilbo.

“Brilliant investment!” Bombur cried.

“Swords from Gondor!” Fili almost jumped.

“Yes! Well done Fili!” laughed Bofur, “Now, Kili, what about you.”

Kili lay his head back on Bilbo’s feet and blew out another smoke ring, “I haven’t thought about it.”

“Now, don’t lie!” said Ori, taking another drag from his pipe, “You had big plans when we left our home.”

Kili blushed, “Aye, but I have changed.”

Bofur grinned and elbowed Ori, “You hear that, Ori? Kili’s chaaaaanged. Yes, yes Kili, we all heard you ‘change’ in those dungeons.”

“Oh, shut it Bofur,” Kili said, red to his face.

“Don’t hide yourself, _nadad_ ,” Fili teased, grinning where Kili was trying and failing to hide into Bilbo’s clothes, “We all heard you talking about the stars and the moon with the she-elf.”

Ori suddenly began to cry. “Ah, so romantic!”

“When?” demanded Bombur, “I heard nothing!”

“Be glad, Bombur,” Fili said dryly, “It was exhausting.”

As Kili turned to hit Fili, he pulled back and laughed loudly. Bilbo separated the two as Kili pouted.

“I understand the infatuation boy,” said Bofur, patting Kili’s legs, “Elves are rather majestic and mysterious.”

“Are you accepting that you like Elves?”

Bofur went red on Bilbo’s question and began to splutter, but Bilbo shook his head, “No, no. You can’t take it back. Bofur likes Elves! Ha!”

As everyone laughed at Bofur’s face Kili stayed quiet. Bofur turned to him.

“Ah, now don’t be sad laddie,” he said, regaining his humour, “It’s all right.”

“It’s not an infatuation,” mumbled Kili, putting down his pipe.

“Oh, I know a pretty face when I see one.”

“She is not just a pretty face!”

Kili’s outburst quieted down everyone. Bofur’s pipe fell out of his mouth as Ori ceased his crying. Bombur frowned at the younger prince, while Fili and Bilbo shared a glance.

“Kili,” Fili said slowly, “She is an Elf.”

Kili groaned, “I know.”

“You couldn’t have chosen a Hobbit?” demanded Bofur.

“Excuse me?”

“No offence, Bilbo.”

“How do you know it’s not an infatuation?” asked Ori.

Kili slowly slipped his hand off his head and looked up at the ceiling from Bilbo’s legs.

“You know how you buy something from the market for its beauty rather than its use? Like a pen?”

Ori nodded, “Aye?”

“And then, you begin to like that pen not for how it looked, but for rather what it did? How they let your thoughts flow? How it was there when you needed it? How it even disappeared when you needed it the most but you still love it?”

Kili sighed, “It is a bit like that, but so much more. I don’t know how to explain it, but Tauriel is not an infatuation. She is far away from me, and could never walk down the paths that I have taken. Mahal, she has years on me and why would she even care for a young beardless dwarf like me?”

A slow smile took over his face, “But that doesn’t mean I cannot love her. She might not be for me or ever be mine, but I would ever be hers if she lets me. No matter how or when or even why but I would always be hers.”

* * *

The morning dawned clear on Lake-town. Cheers were common as the Company made their way to the docks. The weapons handed to them were Ereborian. When Thorin questioned the master, he said that those were the only weapons they had of dwarven size.

The answer did not satisfy them, but they let it pass. Everyone walked through the crowd of men, a mission in their mind. Except for the people who were partying the night before.

Bofur looked dead on his feet, and Bombur was no better. They were barely able to stand, but a constant bickering from Bifur made sure they walked in the line.

Dori was hovering over Ori constantly, and even Nori was sending worried glances towards him, but he just smiled softly and asked them to let it pass.

Fili and Kili had had the least of it, yet Thorin continued to glare daggers at them. Even as they made their way into the boat, Thorin could guess what the boys were doing the night before.

Despite everything, Bilbo felt sad for them. They were right to enjoy a moment when they could.

The trumpets bellowed, and the boat began to be rowed. Soon enough, the Company left behind the cheers of men. Bilbo let out a large whoof. He had been feeling sick in that town. The very water smelled, and Hobbits were never made to lie on water bodies. As long as they were in that lake, he was going to hate it, but Bilbo was sure they would survive.

Thorin, is all his glory, went on to stand just at the edge. Bilbo sat right behind him, watching his friends row the boat. His hands were useless in that endeavour, and everyone seemed to know what they were doing. Fili and Kili had sobered up, looking at the mountain as it grew closer.

It was truly a magnificent view.

The trek to the mountain, however, was not pretty. The land was desolate. Balin said once woodlands lined the valley. Thorin remembered those days. Before Dis came into their lives when he and Frerin were mere pebbles. Their mother would take them out and they would run in the lush forest. They would follow a thrush, or perhaps a cuckoo.

He had learnt how to ride his first pony in those woods. His first War ram. Swung his first axe with his father. He and Dwalin escaped some terrible lessons to find precious stones on those slopes.

Thorin turned to Dwalin. His cousin raised an eyebrow, and Thorin shook his head. There was no time to reminisce. They needed to reach the mountain before midday.

They reached the overlook, but no Gandalf stood there waiting for them. Thorin’s heart was soaring. He had no patience for a wizard who would not keep his own words.

Fili found remnants of fire some steps before they entered Dale. Thorin shared a knowing look with Balin and Dwalin. The Dwarves either lived far too close to Erebor or too far away, where they still had not reached their homes.

“We will greet them when we see them. Onward!”

Going through Dale brought back pleasant and unpleasant memories for those who remembered. Those streets were filled were merchants once, wares from all over Arda. Dwarves and men alike roamed the streets, children laughing and playing in the town centre.

There still was a half-burnt wooden horse lying in the centre. Thorin closed his eyes and moved on.

The Company reached the slopes by midday. The rugged mountain had no way up there. Fili and Kili had immediately bolted off, trying to find a way up. All the other methodically tried to find it. Even Bilbo, thorin noticed, was making his way around the mountain.

But minutes passed, and nobody found anything. Thorin could feel anger and irritation build up within him. He knew not why, but it did. So when Bilbo shouted, “Up here”, his heart soared.

Bilbo looked elated, and Thorin felt it with every ounce of his being. The two shared a glance, and their smiles did not falter.

At that moment, Thorin knew that he would have everything he had ever dreamt of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But nobody told Thorin that nightmares were dreams too.
> 
> Hehe, don't hate me. Please review!


	17. Do What I must

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG YOU GUYS! You all are definitely more intelligent than Thorin or Bilbo. I am not going to say anything else.
> 
> Now, now we are moving to the part from which this whole story started to stem. The Scenes that I had in mind when I was planning it all and the next few chapters are basically gonna be all of my excitement and work and everything in between. Y'all are so awesome thank you for all your comments!
> 
> Also, on a slightly personal note, I am coming down with a fever. the reason I am telling you this is cause my family members have very recently recovered from COVID and I am slightly worried. But no worries, I am not gonna leave all of you hanging anywhere. The next chapter is proving extremely hard to write because you can never do justice to Smaug. But oh good Lord, am I excited.
> 
> Now, without further ado, here's the chapter.
> 
> WARNING: Angst. Seriously, ANGST. FEEEELS

  
  


It was quite an anti-climactic event, in Fili’s opinion. For someone who prided themselves in their make, Dwarves sure made gigantic statues.

They had reached the place where the door ought to be just when the sun was going down. Everyone had rejoiced, laughed and cheered. Even Balin and Thorin looked like little pebblings on their birthday.

But when Dwalin and Nori got to work, they could not find the keyhole. They were losing light, and so the dwarves were losing their patience.

Fili was among them all, but Kili was not. As Thorin, Fili, Dwalin and Nori kicked against the hidden door, Kili frowned at the lot. Fili felt ire rise in his chest. They had not trekked all across Middle Earth just to fail at the very last moment.

“Kili, come on!”

Kili tilted his head at Fili’s command, “But, we haven’t gotten the last light yet!”

One by one, each head fixed upon Kili. He was used to being the centre of attraction, but usually for notorious reasons. The look that everyone gave him mirrored the ones he usually got, but Fili could see that his own irritation was rising.

“What?” barked Thorin.

“ ‘ _The last light of Durin’s Day will shine upon the key-hole_ ,’” quoted Kili and then looked from one dwarf to another, “It isn’t the last light yet.”

“Right now is not the time for your tricks, Kili!” Balin scolded sternly.

Kili looked offended, “I am sorry, are we forgetting the very existence of night or perhaps, the moonlight? Seriously? None of you thought of that?”

None had. Kili was the youngest, but he had hunted. He knew that some hunts were better made while the moon shone upon the ground, and when stars shimmered in the sky. He had snuck out when the world was supposedly dark, but the moonlight basked its light on the land. He knew that a new day only began when the sun began to rise next morn and not a moment before that.

There was scattered murmuring among the group. Kili threw his hands up in the air and sat down, his head in his hands and a frown and a pout on his face. Thorin did not apologize, Kili’s face did not break into a smile. Fili felt out of his depth. He looked at Bilbo, but the Hobbit only smiled proudly while looking at Kili.

As the sun dipped, everyone’s nerves got better of them. Despite Kili’s words, nobody was sure of what to do or expect. The moments between when the sun dipped and the moon rose was excruciatingly long. Bifur managed to carve a new figurine in that time.

The clouds parted. The silver light of the moon reached out to the grey stone, and it was Bilbo who spotted the keyhole. None had believed Kili, yet there it was- the keyhole.

The last light of Durin’s Day indeed.

* * *

Thorin stood up, the key firm in his hand. The Company was silent. Bilbo felt his heart hitch as Thorin pushed the key into the small keyhole. He turned the key and it lodged itself firmly in the place. He did not waste another moment before pushing the part of the stone.

For a moment, Bilbo worried nothing would happen. That the stone would not budge.

But then it opened. It fell open into a long dark corridor. The door landed on the stone beside with a thud, and for the longest moment that was the only sound that could be heard around the mountain.

Thorin’s breath was irregular as he looked around, in the darkened corridor that held nothing. But his eyes were wet, tears threatening to spill.

“Erebor.”

“Thorin,” came Balin’s shaky voice. The older dwarf looked weak as if he could not believe his own eyes. His eyes were teary and he was gasping, to say something- anything really.

Thorin laid a hand on his shoulder, and the two shared a look that Bilbo could not even begin to comprehend. Every other dwarf behind looked out of breath, Dwalin more so than anyone else.

It was Thorin who walked in first, breathing deeply but surely. “I know these walls,” he said, his voice breaking, “These halls.”

He laid his hand on the darkened stone, letting himself breathe. “This stone.” He took in a deep breath, and smiled, turning back to Balin, “You remember it, Balin? Chambers filled with golden light.”

Balin took in a sharp breath, nodding slightly, “I remember.”

Fili was the next to take a step in, his own breath hitching. Kili held on to him as if for dear life. They had heard stories, of halls larger than life. It was just another tale for them, nothing big. Yet, it was perhaps Thorin and Balin’s words or their own Mother’s longing that made them touch the stone with such uncertainty.

The Company entered, one by one, and it was Nori who pointed out the etching over the doorway.

“ ‘ _Herein lies the Seventh Kingdom of Durin’s Folk_ ’,” said Gloin, “ _‘May the Heart of the Mountain unite all Dwarves in defence of this home_.’”

“The Throne fo the King,” said Balin, a different sort of excitement in his voice.

Bilbo, despite his own lack of connection to the stones, found himself getting almost teary-eyed. He looked at the Throne and then at the stone above it.

“The Arkenstone.”

Bilbo did not even have to guess. That was it. The stone, for which they had gotten a burglar. For which Thorin was ready to march upon the mountain, which would give them the power to rule and call upon all the dwarrows.

“Aye, laddie,” said Balin, clearly impressed at Bilbo’s knowledge, “That’s the reason why you are here.”

Bilbo nodded. “Right. Now, I do not want to break the moment, at all, but if one of you could perhaps describe the jewel before I go into the dragon’s jaws?”

Thorin and Balin shared a smile as if laughing on a hidden joke.

“What?” demanded Bilbo.

“A large, white jewel,” said Balin, sporting a calm smile.

Bilbo frowned, “That’s it? I imagine there’s quite a few own there.”

“There is only one Arkenstone,” said Thorin, something dark and deep in his voice, “and you’ll know when you see it.”

That was not a lot to go on with. Thorin inclined his head and began to move, Bilbo and Balin on his trail. There were various carvings on the wall that Bilbo really wanted to see, but he had to jog to keep up with the dwarves’ pace.

When they reached a turning, both Thorin and Balin stopped. Thorin was contemplating something when Balin said, “In truth, lad, I do not know what you will find down there.”

Thorin looked more affected by those words than Bilbo, which is saying something considering Bilbo felt like he was marching to his doom.

“You needn’t go if you don’t want to,” continued Balin, throwing a side glance at Thorin, “There’s no dishonour in turning back.”

“You have saved us on more than one occasion,” said Thorin, not looking at him, “You have done more than what was expected of you.”

“No,” Bilbo said with more confidence than he was feeling, “I promised I would do this and I think I must try.”

To his utmost surprise, Balin began to chuckle. “It never ceases to amaze me, the courage of Hobbits.”

Despite himself, Bilbo huffed out a laugh.

“Go now,” he said, “with as much luck as you can muster.”

Just as Bilbo nodded and began to walk forward, Thorin pulled him into a warm embrace. Albeit shocked, Bilbo allowed himself to melt in the hug, ignoring the snigger.

“Come back to me,” said Thorin, pulling apart and looking at Bilbo with all of the desperation.

“I will,” promised Bilbo, patting Thorin's arm. He pulled back immediately and turned, almost as if fleeing.

Bilbo watched Thorin go and then turned to see Balin smiling cheekily at Bilbo. Rolling his eyes, Bilbo turned around, ready to walk into the grand Erebor.

“Oh, Bilbo?”

“Hmm?”

“If there is, in fact, a live dragon down there, don’t waken it.”

And there goes the last of his confidence.

Nodding briefly, Bilbo began to walk on. He turned back to see Balin, but the dwarf had already turned around and was walking away.

Well then, it was just Bilbo and his unfaithful thoughts.

* * *

“ _What is that?”_

_Thorin looked up. Bilbo was staring at him from his armchair, a frown etched on his face._

_The dwarf help up the wooden piece he was working on, “It’s a figurine.”_

_Bilbo leaned forward, judging it carefully. “It looks like a soldier.”_

“ _Aye,” nodded Thorin, “It is.”_

“ _I thought you didn’t work with wood.”_

“ _I do not, but I cannot exactly offer our pebble a metal toy, can I?”_

_No matter how many times it had been, the smile on Bilbo’s face never failed to make Thorin’s heart skip a beat. He rested his hand on the now protruding belly, and Thorin lay his own hand over Bilbo’s._

“ _They are restless,” muttered Thorin._

_Bilbo smiled, “With us as parents, are you really surprised?”_

_grinning, Thorin shifted closer to Bilbo and pressed a kiss on his forehead, “Not at all. All I can pray for is that they do not inherit either of our energy.”_

_Bilbo sighed, “We are soon going to be running around all over the Shire trying to catch this tyke. Do not be very hopeful.”_

“ _A Dwarf can hope.”_

“ _Are you two done being sickly sweet?”_

_The Husbands parted as if someone had thrown a lump of coal between them. Mirabella looked at them with fond exasperation. Thorin merely inclined his head before pulling the table near Bilbo’s chair. Mirabella set down the tray, and Bilbo groaned._

“ _Do I have to?” he whined as Mira handed him the cup._

“ _Bilbo Baggins, you are to be a father. Stop acting like a petulant child.”_

_Bilbo pouted but brought the cup to his lips anyway. As soon as the liquid touched his tongue, he made a retching sound._ _Thorin immediately held the cup. Bilbo looked at him with the most pitiful expression ever, but Thorin did not bulge. He stood there until every single drop was finished._

“ _Now, that’s a good boy,” said Mira, “Here, eat these biscuits. Thorin, help me set the table would you?”_

_Thorin nodded at once. He pressed a kiss on Bilbo’s forehead before rushing after the older Hobbit woman. As soon as the two were at a good enough distance, the smiles slipped off both their faces._

“ _What did she say?” Thorin asked gravely._

_Mirabella shook her head, “It is not looking well, Thorin. He is barely able to eat anything. We have tried everything. He is weak and sick. Is there nothing from your side?”_

_Thorin sighed, “I have told you of every herb I can think of. The packet helped, did it not?”_

“ _It did, yes, but it was just not enough. I have been mixing it with his tea.”_

“ _Oin, my cousin sent that. He said that it would be good for any pregnant Hobbit.”_

_Mirabella sighed. “His knowledge is good, but it is not the best. Dwarven pregnancies last 15 months, you say?”_

_Thorin nodded. Mirabella looked out of the door, watching Bilbo nibble on his biscuit. “He has already crossed the six-month mark. His body is not made for this.”_

“ _Do none of the Tooks know what to do now?”_

“ _The last Took male that carried lived three generations ago, Thorin dear. We have been reading on his diary, but he was already old when he got pregnant. He did not last very long after that.”_

_An involuntary shudder passed through Thorin. He looked over his shoulder, watching Bilbo work on his knitwear._

_Dis had taken the news of him staying over in the Shire for the winter and further in a stride, not once asking any question. If she had any suspicions, she did not voice them. Instead, she handled the colony and sent him weekly reports. Thorin was forever thankful for his sister because he could not bear to be away from his One._

_The pregnancy had started well enough. There were usual signs of sickness and fatigue in the early months, and both Mirabella and Admanta had convinced him that it was normal. The Gamgees were a regular help to the couple, from taking care of the household to sharing tips. As time passed, however, just the two of them could not handle all things. The Took matriarch was far too old to actually make the journey, so the Aunt had all but moved in with them._

_As months passed, however, Bilbo continued to be sick. It was not as outwardly as before, but thorin could trace it in his eating habits and dark circles. The happiness over a child made Bilbo forget a lot of things, but Thorin was not blind to anything._

_When none of the Hobbitish medicines worked, Thorin took a leap of faith and wrote to Oin. He was intentionally vague in his letter, talking of the general weather. He made a mention of his host who was expecting, and how none of the usual remedies worked for her. As expected, the healer in Oin could not just sit back and he sent a packet of herbs to help this imaginary landlady of Thorin’s._

“ _It has been lessening though,” Said Mirabella, “And the babe feels strong. I do not think anything will happen.”_

_Thorin closed his eyes, “Hopefully, nothing will.”_

* * *

His every step echoed, despite being so quiet. At one point, the rugged stone walls began to turn smooth, and soon Bilbo could spot the pillars and lights Thorin had once described to him.

When he turned and walked out into an open hall, Bilbo felt his heart stop. Two large statues of dwarves stood right in front of him. Behind them were rows and balconies. At one point in time, the path he was standing on alone would have been filled with young and old dwarrows alike. If Bilbo closed his eyes, for just a moment, he could place the story Thorin told him at the place.

A dwarfling running across the stairs he could see at a distance. A merchant shouting for their wares. The soldiers, standing just beside him. The archways, filled with lights and dwarrows peeping out of corners. Dressed in armours and...

Bilbo stopped. He turned around, slowly, looking at the edge of stairs. Something seemed to move, something ever so slowly. It was brown, and golden perhaps.

He whipped his head, ready to catch whichever member of his Company was trying to scare him but was faced with nothing. Instead, he heard a retreating echo of footsteps. Something much heavier than his own footsteps.

Bilbo blinked. He was too deep in his imagination. There were no dwarves in Erebor, and the ones that had come were all waiting outside. The echoes were probably just another figment of his imagination.

But no matter how much he tried, Bilbo couldn’t shake the feeling that he had just seen a dwarrow run away from him.

He turned his head, trying to dispel all thoughts away.

Bilbo froze, his mouth hanging open.

Yes, he had heard of the wealth of Erebor. Thorin and Balin and Dwalin had told him many tales of overflowing gold, but he always assumed they were metaphorical.

Not the same as the grand mound of gold that expanded for as far as Bilbo could see, even going on in the darkness.

* * *

_It was on one of the darkest nights of winter that the pains actually started. Bilbo was lying on the rug, his head resting on Thorin’s chest. The Gamgees, some of the Baggins and many of the Tooks had gathered at Bag End for a night of partying. Wine and ale overflew, and songs and cheer lingered in Bag End._

_Bilbo was in general used to discomfort, so when it at first started, he chalked the pain as anything else. The babe was overexcited that day, probably at the sound of so many voices._

_But then the pain began to make him restless, and he could not hide it any longer. Thorin looked down worriedly at him._

“ _What’s wrong, Bilbo?”_

“ _Oh, I do not know. Your child is far too excited and thinks punching me is a very nice game. A warrior, I tell you.”_

_Thorin could have believed him, had the very next moment Bilbo had let out a blood curling scream. Everyone in the house froze, looking at Bilbo in concern._

_The next few hours were a blur for the Hobbit. He never knew how he reached his room- his best guess would be Thorin, though Bilbo was sure there were more than one pair of hands. His sides hurt, his head was a mess and he could feel the pain rushing through his body._

_Thorin was beside him, on his head. He had once told him that had they been in Ered Luin or Erebor, he would have been kicked out. But here, it was normal. He brushed his hair out of teh sticky forhead, held his hand and murmured soothing words in his ear. He sang lullabies, but nothing worked._

_When the time finally came, the sun had risen. Bilbo screamed so loudly that everyone in the close vicinity of Bag End shuddered._

_He could not even stay awake long enough to hear the cries of the child._

* * *

_In the Shire, when a babe is firstborn, he is handed over to the parents. Bare skin to bare skin, it allows them to bond, and young faunts are often hungry. The child is always passed on the bearers._

_Thorin’s breath hitched as a small bundle was pressed into his arms. He could feel tears prick in his eyes._

_The babe was red, far too small, for a fauntling or a dwarfling. He did not cry, only mewled. He was having difficulty breathing. Thorin tried, he really tried, but even he could tell that the babe was in discomfort._

_And he was far too excitable. Just as he and Bilbo had said. His legs and arms were never still._

“ _He is weak,” someone said, “and he needs the warmth. Hold him close, would you?”_

_Thorin nodded. They did not need to tell him that._

“ _Bil, Bilbo?”_

“ _He is...I will not lie, Thorin, Bilbo is not well.”_

_Thorin closed his eyes, letting the tears fall. He could not lose Bilbo, not his One. But he could not lose the little bundle in his arms either._

* * *

No matter how carefully Bilbo walked down, the gold coins clinked under his weight. And there were not just coins, but goblets, plates, bowls- why in the name would anyone have golden cutlery, Bilbo had no idea. Silver, he could still understand, but golden?

There was also cloth, which Bilbo presumed were half burnt tapestries. He just hoped he did not step over a skeleton, which was very much a possibility.

As expected, there were hundreds of white and clear stones. Big, small, clunky, polished- all sorts of stones. Strengthening his resolve, Bilbo began his work.

He continued to search for hours.

In his search, he found gold armour that could not even fit him, a very odd sculpture that looked like someone had forgotten to properly mould the molten metal, a pen with golden ink, an inkwell made out of a precious stone (Ori would love it), a book made of gold and just gold.

Why did they need so much gold, Bilbo had no idea.

His feet ached, which was an achievement. His throat was scratchy. His head hurt. He had no idea what to do.

Bilbo was walking aimlessly, pulling out anything shiny from the hoard. That was a huge mistake.

The coins shifted, and Bilbo looked up to find something which was very clearly not anything precious. It was scaly, it was red and it was in the shape of an eye.

Bilbo immediately hurried to a pillar, hiding behind the columns. His heart had jumped out of his chest, and he could feel everything tenfold.

For a second nothing happened. Bilbo caught his breath.

He had calmed down far too early.

There was a loud exhale, and just beside Bilbo, a large hole, made up of the same scaly material presented itself out of the gold coins.

Bilbo tried to slowly walk by, but then something rumbled on the other side of the column.

It was as if someone had squeezed the life out of him.

He opened his hands apart, just wondering how big the Dragon could actually be. The nose was beside him. The eye was clearly three to four steps above him.

That was just half of his face.

Even if the other side was his tale, the Dragon could be bigger than...all of Bag End.

That...was not a good picture.

Bilbo took another step, but more coins fell down. Biting down a whimper, Bilbo sat down, wondering exactly what he had gotten himself into. Bloody Thorin Oakenshield.

Bilbo was going to disown him from the Baggins name very soon. Getting him into such trouble like this.

As he moved forward, more coins fell down, and the closed eyelid popped open.

He fell down on his back. Oh dear Yavannah, if only he could turn invisible.

Oh.

Oh, he could.

Just as the head raised, Bilbo slipped on the ring.

“Well, thief, I smell you. I hear your breath. Where are you?”

Oh, dear. He was massively fucked.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pleeeeeeeeeease don't hate me and review!


	18. Battle your demons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES, IT'S AN EARLY CHAPTER! AAAAH!  
> thank you so much for your reviews. they are making me so pumped! I couldn't stop writing and I ended up finishing this earlier than anticipated. Will all updates be so fast? No idea! but this one is!  
> TRIGGER WARNING: ANGST, Character Death (I am sorry) and DRAMA!

Bilbo let his legs carry him as fast as they could. He felt his stomach revolt and his heart threatening to escape his body and fall on the floor. The golden coins clinked under his feet. The halls were dark but at the same time very light.

It was not a good picture.

“Come now,” the dragon purred, hot on Bilbo’s tail “Don’t be shy.”

Yes, absolutely. Whyever would Bilbo be shy about a dragon? He should be having tea parties with the serpent. Yes, yes, drinking tea in golden cups that the dragon had hoarded and killed many dwarves for. Scones, and cake and lavender tea and all the jazz.

“Step into the light.”

Why doesn’t he dance naked in front of the dwarves? That would only lead to the death of his dignity.

“There is something about you,” said Smaug, “Something you carry.”

Oh, great good Eru. The ring. Made of gold.

He was officially the biggest fool in the world.

The world turned darker, and yet so much lighter. There was a shadow of a man, fire surrounding his mind. Bilbo heard ‘precious’, and the sound of that creature inside the cave echoed in his mind. It burnt his fingers.

He took off his ring.

Stupid Bilbo was faced with one eye of the Dragon.

“There you are,” grinned the Dragon, “Thief in the shadows.”

Bilbo could only nod, “I did not come to steal from you, O Smaug the Unassesably Wealthy. I merely wanted to gaze upon your magnificence. To see if you really were as great as the old tales say.” Bilbo whimpered.

Good manners took Hobbits everywhere. The only person Bilbo was not polite with was Lobelia Sackville-Baggins. But the Dragon was a much bigger threat than that horrid woman, so Bilbo allowed his father’s lessons come out.

The dragon grinned and pulled back around the pillar to truly stand in Bilbo’s line of sight.

“And do you now?” he roared.

Bilbo was a dead hobbit walking on borrowed time. Every Valar he could think of he prayed to. Yavannah, Aule, Nienna, Eru himself....whoever would listen to him to save him against the giant beast of the North.

“Truly,” Bilbo said, and was utterly surprised of how calm his voice sounded, “The tales and songs fall utterly short fo your enormity, O Smaug the Stupendous.”

The dragon hummed, “Do you think flattery will keep you alive?”

“No, no.”

“No indeed,” Smaug bent down, reminding Bilbo again of his own height, “You know my name, but I do not know yours. Nor what you are.” Smaug sniffed, a manic grin spreading on his face, “Though, I can smell Dwarf and man on you.”

The Dragon might as well have stomped on Bilbo. Dwarf and man...dwarf and man...dwarf and man...

“Yes,” Bilbo found his head working against the accord of his mind, “I am a half-dwarf half-man child.”

“Are you now?” Smaug sounded amused.

Bilbo nodded. If the dragon believed he was half-dwarf, surely, he would not think of the others? One life could be laid down for the protection of many.

Thoughts that he would rather never think about swirled in his mind and his head whipped around for an idea, anything truly. And that’s when he saw it.

The Arkenstone.

Truly, one could not describe it. A large white jewel was the aptest description.

“Tell me more,” purred Smaug, and Bilbo was harshly pulled away from his thoughts. In front of him stood a Dragon that could easily sit upon the whole of Party field and still fall short of a place to truly delve into, and on his other side lay a stone smaller than his mother’s doily, but so significant that it led Dwarrows on a quest across the lands.

What even was his life?

“I come from under the Hill.”

“Underhill?” asked Smaug.

Bilbo nodded, trying to piece together the last of his senses.

“And under hills and over hills my path has led. And...” Taking a deep breath, he continued, “And through the air. I am he who walks unseen.”

“Impressive,” Smaug moved as if to get a better view. Probably planning from which side he was going to incinerate him. Oh, Bofur. Couldn’t Bofur have done this? “What else do you claim to be?”

“ I am...Luck Wearer”

He approached Bilbo, and the mouth and nostrils were far too close for Bilbo’s nerves. The dragon’s mouth smelled disgusting.

“Riddle- maker.” he somehow continued.

“Lovely titles,” said the dragon, and oh dear lord the Troll cave smelt better than that, “Go on.”

“Barrel rider.”

“Barrels?” the dragon pulled back and looked down, “Now that is interesting. And what about your Dwarf friends?”

Bilbo whimpered. He could not think of anything else. Nothing. Nada. Nope.

“Is the son of Durin with you?”

Bilbo shook his head, “A-a son fo Durin? With me? No, no. I am a half-Dwarf. The, the King would never, ha. Never.”

Smaug sniffed, “Well, let me tell you what I think. I think that the Durin sent you in here to do his dirty work. To steal from me. And you, barrel rider, fell into the traps of his pretty words.”

“Truly,” Bilbo somehow gathered the last of his wits, “You are mistaken O Smaug, the Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities.”

“You have nice manners, for a thief and a liar,” snarled Smaug “I know the smell and taste of dwarves. I can smell him, even if it has been ages. You are smart, oh barrel-rider, but not smart enough. Tell me, where is the Silvertongue?”

“I have no...” Bilbo paused. Whatever he was going to say died on his lips. He slowly looked up at Smaug, “Silvertongue?”

“Aha!” cried Smaug, and bent forward, making Bilbo tumble a few steps behind, “So you do know of him. Of course, it would be that mewling coward that would send someone else to do his bidding.”

Bilbo gaped. The conversation was going far beyond his reach. His mind could procure nothing.

“Where is that dwarf? Hiding behind your large feet?”

“No, Smaug, just waiting for you to grace us with your presence.”

Both Bilbo and Smaug turned to the origin of the voice. The corridors once would have been a part of the city, but at the moment they were half covered in gold. There was no light upon the area, but the figure of a dwarf was hard to miss. Even in the dark, one could easily see the armour, the helmet, an axe and long flowing braids.

A dwarf Bilbo had never heard before stood there, looking at Smaug threateningly.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Silvertongue.”

Immediately Smaug’s attention turned from Bilbo to the dwarf on the podium. As for him, the dwarf, Silvertongue, did not even bulge. He crossed his arms, and grinned.

“I have to say, Smaug, that your name has stuck. To think men and Elves know me of that. Truly, I am indebted to you.”

And with that, the dwarf bowed in the most flourishing way possible.

“Are you then, you thief!” hissed the dragon.

“Thief? Me?” the dwarf asked with much mock surprise, “Oh my, you are clearly not talking of those adventures of my youth. Forgive me, Smaug, for a hungry dwarfling was just trying to gather enough food. Seeing as you had blocked the way to the kitchens, what was I to do?”

Bilbo blinked. That dwarf was having a conversation with Smaug as if greeting an old friend. His day was getting weirder and weirder.

“I should have eaten you when I first saw you,” Smaug said, slowly circling around the podium.

“Which was years after I saw you,” the dwarf said back, turning to face the dragon, face to face, “Truly, age has made you weak.”

“You think me weak?” Smaug growled, and the neck of the dragon began to brighten up. The dwarf merely laughed, stepping into the light.

Bilbo gasped. Earlier shrouded in darkness, now Bilbo could see the golden locks of the dwarf, and a half of his face scarred. The helmet obscured much from his view, but it was hard not to notice one-fourth of someone’s face burnt away.

“You have tried, and failed to burn me,” Silvertongue hissed.

“Yet you bear the mark.” snarled Smaug.

Silvertongue pulled back, standing straight, “I bear it with pride.”

“Pride?” the dragon laughed, and it hurt Bilbo’s ears, the chimes of his laughter, “Of what?”

The Dwarf did not pull back, unconcerned by the dragon’s laugh. “Of besting the beast of Erebor.”

It was clearly the wrong thing to say, for Smaug roared and ran to Silvertongue. He immediately ran and disappeared.

“You think you can defeat me?”

“I have done it more times than I can count, oh great Smaug,” Silvertongue’s voice echoed in the darkness, “What makes you think I won’t again?”

“You have grown weak as I have slept.”

“Oh, and who lulled you to sleep?”

“You had help.”

“And I still do.”

Bilbo was desperately trying to run as the Dragon knocked one pillar after the another, trying to follow the voice. He did know when he came back to the same staircase he had climbed down from when he was yanked back to the corner as Smaug moved on.

He opened his mouth to scream, but a large hand immediately pushed his mouth shut. Bilbo’s eyes widened as he saw the dwarf. As the hand was slowly pulled down, Bilbo gasped.

“Vorin?”

The young dwarf looked back at the dragon and pulled him aside, “Get out of here, Master Hobbit, before that dragon kills us all.”

“But...how...”

“Just get out!” he all but pushed Bilbo on the stairs, “If my sister sees you she will have your head on her sword. Go!”

Bilbo did not need to be told twice. He ran, as Smaug and Silvertongue continued to battle through their words. Just as he came close to the entry, Thorin came barreling in.

“You’re alive!”

“Not for much longer!” shouted Bilbo, running up the stairs. As glad as he was to hear Thorin, he was pretty sure if they did not move out fast enough they would die.

“Did you find the Arkenstone?” came Thorin’s question.

“The dragon’s coming!” replied Bilbo.

“The Arkenstone!”

Bilbo stopped, looking at Thorin. There was a desperation in Thorin’s voice as he asked again, “Did you find it?”

Bilbo gulped, “I saw it, but then something happened. We have to get out.”

* * *

Thorin placed his hand on Bilbo’s chest, frowning, “You saw it?”

“Yes.”

“Where is it?”

Bilbo’s eyes widened, “There are things happening right here that are far beyond our understanding!”

But Thorin did not care. He could not care, when the gold of his forefathers was within his sight and the Arkenstone had been once spotted.

“We can find it!”

Bilbo shook his head, stopping Thorin with his hands, “Thorin! There is a dragon who is awake and after our blood!”

Thorin opened his mouth to argue, but the dragon’s roar pulled him out of his reverie. He knew that voice, that snarl, that roar. It haunted his dreams and followed him every waking moment.

He stood in Erebor, and Thorin’s nightmares were coming true.

Thorin’s eyes landed on his sister-sons, both looking at the monster form their dreams coming out to reality. The Company had all arrived, and the Dragon had decided to show his face. It was all falling apart.

Dis was going to kill him.

The Dragon roared, and its neck began to warm up. “You will burn!”

“RUN!”

Nobody contested that.

* * *

_They had had a son. One moment when Bilbo had regained consciousness, he had said, “Bain.”_

_But then he never held the little boy. It was Thorin who held him. Always close to his heart, singing to him softly. He never cried, but whimpered. He would help his son breathe through the mouth. His lungs were still weak._

“ _He was not ready to greet the world yet,” Mirabella said as Thorin rocked the babe and fed him milk from the spoon, “But Bilbo could not have carried any longer.”_

_Thorin shuddered as Bain began to fall asleep. It had been barely twelve hours, but both Bilbo and Bain were showing no signs of recovery._

“ _Will he be fine?”_

_Mirabella didn’t ask which he Thorin was talking about. His voice was broken, and Thorin did not know for which he asked himself._

“ _We have been feeding Bilbo the herbs,” Mirabella said slowly, “He is showing improvement.”_

_Thorin did not need to ask for the babe. He was old he knew what was to happen._

_As the day began to come to an end, Thorin slowly made his way to his and Bilbo’s room._

_There, on the bed, lay Bilbo Baggins. Much paler than Thorin had ever seen him, his lips cracked his breath irregular. He looked uncomfortable even deep in sleep._

_Thorin settled down beside him on the bed, holding the babe close. Bain was bundled in white cloth, looking far too small. He was so small._

“ _Bilbo,” Thorin whispered, inching closer to the Hobbit, “Please.”_

_There was nothing more that he could say. No words came, and no words were needed. The babe in his arms was not ready to greet the world yet._

_With the help of Mirabella, they opened Bilbo’s shirt. On his warm chest, they laid down Bain, in a last-ditch effort. If nothing else, that should help them._

_Thorin had held his tears for long, but as he saw bain and Bilbo together, thorin rushed out. He did not know where he was off to, but he needed to be away from the crowd in his house. The Gamgees were still there, and so were many more people._

_He somehow ended up in the kitchen. All their stories ended up started and ending in the kitchen. He would have laughed, had it not been for the time. Thorin let the tears fall, and fell to his knees. He did not pray much, but at the moment, thorin clasped his hand prayed. He prayed to Mahal, to Eru, to Yavannah- to whoever would listen._

_Far away from the kitchen, on the bed, Bilbo’s breath began to gain a little more weight. He slowly opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was the bald head of his son._

“ _Oh, Bain,” Bilbo slowly lifted his hand and laid it down on the young boy’s head. He would have had dark black hair, like Thorin, “I am so sorry.”_

_The babe merely whimpered in reply, burying his small nose and mouth on Bilbo’s chest. As Bilbo took a deep breath, the babe breathed his last._

* * *

“There are undead dwarves in Erebor! There are undead dwarves in Erebor!”

Fili smacked Kili on his head. The younger Durin immediately shut up but continued to whimper and look around. They were hidden in a room which looked like a pharmacy. The Company were all out of their breath, but it was hard to miss the Dragon and the dwarf exchanging jibes and fire upstairs.

“they are not undead dwarves,” hissed Bilbo, “those dwarves are very much alive!”

“Who are they?” demanded Thorin, looking out of the door.

“Silvertongue,” said Bilbo, “I heard the dragon call him so. And Vorin, I met him.”

Balin, Dwalin and Thorin shared an alarming glance. Dwalin tightened his hold on the axe and muttered, “Dwarves of Erebor indeed.”

Before Thorin or anyone could say a word, footsteps echoed in the room. Everyone pulled out their weapon, Bilbo included, and Thorin lead the Company.

Each member of the Company was shook at seeing a small battalion at the entrance of the room. All wearing Ereborian armour, handling weapons that were kept in the armoury.

And they were lead by none other than Reya.

“ **Merchants from the Blue Mountains indeed** ,” hissed the dam, her knuckled turning white against her axe. She stepped forward, ready to attack, but the dwarf beside her pulled her back.

“ **It matters not!** ” the dwarf muttered in Khudzul, “ **We have to get in position. We will deal with them later.** ”

Reya continued to glare at the Company, her eyes lighted in fury, “ **Deal with them indeed. Move aside!** ”

Even as she barked the command, Thorin stood his ground.

“ **Allow us to help** ,” he said in Khudzul.

Reya snorted, “ **Why, awakening the beast was not enough for you**?”

“ **It was not our intention**!” Fili cried.

“ **Your intentions matters not!** ”

“Can you all talk in a language known to everyone?” barked Bilbo, looking from one dwarf to another.

Everyone turned to stare at Bilbo as he continued, “I was just talking to a dragon and he clearly has more manners than you lot.”

Fili was unable to stop the snicker as everyone looked at Bilbo in disbelief. The very next moment, however, the mountain tumbled.

Everyone clutched their weapons even more tightly. Reya pushed Thorin and the company aside, looking up at the dragon dancing around in the treasury.

“We have to move,” Reya said hurriedly, “We need to corner the beast.”

“What’s the plan?” asked Thorin, following behind her.

She looked at him, a much older dwarf, clearly unimpressed and unhappy. But she said nevertheless, “We corner him, then shoot him down. Lord Girion’s arrow managed to pierce his hide, and we have one spot.”

Balin shook his head, “No matter if his hide is loosened, a simple arrow would not kill him. Do you have any black arrows?”

“In the armoury, aye,” said the dwarf from before, “We must take him close to the windlance.”

Now that Fili paid attention, he realized the dwarf was a dam. She held herself strong and proud, copper locks adorning her head and chin.

“That would give us the risk of letting the beast loose,” said Dwalin.

The dam nodded, “We have no choice. Our King cannot engage Smaug for eternity. Even his luck will run out.”

The Company shared a suspicious glance. The king, there was a king of dwarrows within the mountain. Thorin looked impassive, but Fili could tell he was as curious as the rest of the lot.

“We will get out first,” said Reya, “You lot can get out and prepare the wind lance on the western part of the mountain.”

“Then we should make for the western guardroom.”

The older dam shook her head, “The Western guardroom is blocked. It closed when Smaug first descended upon the mountain.”

Thorin cursed, shaking his head, “Then we would never be able to make it in due time. Smaug will win.”

Reya hissed, “Do you have a better idea?”

Thorin looked ready to shake his head but stopped. It was as if Mahal had intervened and put an idea in his head.

“The Gallery of the kings,” murmured Thorin. He looked up, a manic glint in his eyes, “Does the mould still stand?”

“What mould?” demanded Reya.

“The mould for the golden statue for King Thror," Thorin said, his temper flaring and snapping, "Does it still stand?”

Clearly shocked, Reya nodded. “Aye, it does.”

“We can bury the Dragon in molten gold. If we pull the mould before the gold has had time to cool down, he would not be able to live through that.”

The dam shook her head, “The forges have gone cold. We never even tried to light it up, being so close to the dragon. It would take longer to do that than get to windlance. We have no fire warm enough to light them up again.”

The dragon roared, and Silvertongue’s laughter echoed in the empty halls of Erebor.

“Don’t we?” murmured Fili, looking at the claws of the dragon just outside the doorway.

Thorin and Reya exchanged a glance, clearly catching on.

“Lead him to the forges,” said Reya, directing Thorin, “We will be ready at the gallery.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to review!


	19. Look at Those who were Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, guys.....this is it. The chapter that begun it all. There is much to come and there was much before this but THIS IS THE CHAPTER! OH MY GOD, I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW EXCITED I AM THIS WAS LITERALLY THE FIRST CHAPTER I HAD WRITTEN ATER THe FIRST CHAPTER AND THIS HAS SO MANY VERSIONS BUT THIS!!! AAAH
> 
> God, I cannot tell you how glad I am to all of you. When I begun I did not think that the response would be so much but here you all are....EEEEEEEE! I really really hope you guys like this chapter...I love you all! We are so close to 500 kudos it is breaking my heart your reviews are so inquisitive and I just, god, i love you all! thank you so much for being here with me.
> 
> No flasback this time, you all have enough angst on your plate now. This has sort of graphic descriptions, of violence and death. Hardships and otherwise. Please feel free to skip a few lines if it gets to you.  
> Also, sorry, I cannot write fight scenes very well. Hope you like it.  
> AAAAA!

“I did not look to see you so easily outwitted! You have grown slow and fat in your dotage slug!”

The gates burned under the fire of dragon, and Bilbo could feel it on his back. But the moment he stopped, the fireplaces grew brightly. The yellow light flared and the machinery began to glow up.

Truly, Dwarvish mechanisms were the stuff of legends.

Bilbo ran, nodding along to Thorin’s instructions. It had been quite an adventure, getting all around the mountain. He was quite out of it, just running when Thorin had challenged the dragon in the middle of the hoard.

“You sleep on the gold of my forefathers!”

“I ate your forefathers!”

“And I will kill you.”

Thorin proclamation had severely enraged the dragon. It gave Silvertongue just enough time to move away, letting Thorin lead him through a wild goose chase.

Erebor was beautiful. Their geometric designs, beehive-like houses and railingless passageways were beautiful if a bit dangerous. Bilbo would love to see it filled, but that thought was brimming at the back of his head as they ran and battled a dragon.

He had no idea where anyone was. He had no idea where they were to go. But Balin, Thorin and Dwalin clearly knew and Bilbo trusted them all. His nephews were as lost as him, and it surely gave him some comfort.

When he paid attention, Bilbo could feel that either the dragon was truly very slow, or his Dwarrows were fast. By the time he had climbed up the stairs, half the dwarves were gone inside.

When Thorin shouted, Bilbo pulled down the lever. The large dwarves’ mouth fell open to spew water out. Bilbo had to give it to the dwarrows- they were smart. They knew their work. The machinery of Erebor was beautiful, in the way that Thorin was.

Unfortunately, with a dragon on their tale, Bilbo did not have enough time to understand all of it. The ground tumbled beneath him, and suddenly Thorin was rowing on a barrel in a river of gold and Bilbo was not sure if he was truly awake or if he was dreaming.

He ran as fast as his legs could carry him and ended up sliding and running into a large hall ready with archers on either side. As soon as the dragon broke the upper walls, the archers let their arrows loose, and the Dragon cried in agony.

Bilbo ran to the mould as arrows oh many different shape and sizes, some resembling the windlance in lake town and some arrows bigger than his own self being shot at the dragon. He was too scared to truly look back, but by the cries, he could hope that some arrows were weakening the dragon.

When he finally reached the end, Bilbo took in a deep breath of victory. There were scales littered on the ground. Smaug looked pained, and even if he was not dying he was considerably weakened.

He ran around, moving to a corridor, screaming when Bilbo saw Thorin. The army continued to shoot arrows upon the Dragon as it ran towards the huge mould of a statue.

It was watching Thorin’s death run to him, and Bilbo let out a gasp and closed his eyes shut.

All noise ceased.

Something large was pulled back.

As Bilbo peeped over his hand, he saw the dragon stare at a large golden statue.

And then, it melted.

* * *

The gold poured down in a rush. With each wave came a piercing cry of the beast, but Thorin could feel no pity for the beast. He had come for gold. It was only right that he should die by the influx of gold.

The metal glittered on the floor. Thorin could not tear his gaze away from the gold. It shone on the floor of Erebor. Rightfully, on the floor of Erebor. A statue would not do justice to the beauty of the gold. It was for Erebor. No one would be able to steal a floor of gold, now would they?

It was wet, but when it would harden it would be truly a beauty of the kingdom. Men, Elves and Hobbits would pay homage to him. The molten gold moved.

Thorin frowned. Why was it moving?

First came the feast, but Thorin heard the beast before he emerged out of the molten gold. It was crying out in pain, in anger, his cries worse than the cries of Orcs. Thorin watched, there, in the Gallery of the Kings, as the dragon moved out of the gold. His shouts of revenge haunted him, even at that moment. Thorin watched the Dragon roar, and move out of Erebor, shouting his threats.

He could do nothing. Nobody could do anything as the Dragon moved out, towards the open. Towards the town of men.

He had failed. Yet again.

“Why?” cried Silvertongue, looking up to where Thorin stood, “Why did you have to awaken the dragon?”

Thorin blanched as Silvertongue moved forward. He could see the burnt tissue on the side of the head, a relic of the dragon. Thorin’s own shoulders bore some marks from the past that he could not erase.

As he climbed down, Dori rushed outside along with a few other dwarves. Thorin could not pay attention to them. It was impossible. Wrong.

He was supposed to kill the beast.

“Was it gold?” Silvertongue demanded, “The hoard of a dragon is cursed!”

“It was never about the gold!” roared Thorin. His head was pounding, his heart hammering. It was all going wrong, completely wrong “Erebor is my home.”

“And so it is ours!” growled the dwarf, standing in front of his scattered army, “We lived here, survived. And you came and destroyed all of it. The dragon might have flown but he will come back. He will come back and destroy all that had dared to defy his power. Oh, do you think we had an easy life? Living under a very alive dragon? We ran for our lives, Oakenshiedl!”

The dwarf moaned, cursing in Khudzul.

“I did it for the people of Erebor, Silvertongue,” said Thorin, looking around the Company. He could see young dwarflings back in Ered Luin, working in mines when they should have been studying. He could see old dwarves, losing their eyesight, working on their pieces with the last of their strength. He could see his sister, a princess who should have been pampered and loved, not learning how to be an advisor, “The people who had to run when that beast descended upon this great kingdom. We have lived on the road, in the villages of men, going through hardships-”

“Hardships?” snarled the dwarf. His eyes blazed, and a lesser dwarf would have fallen down under that gaze, “You talk about hardships, you who escaped? Oh, you know nothing!”

Breathing heavily, he walked forward, still glaring at Thorin, “Did you have to choose between food and water so that you could live the other day? Did you have to leave behind your own kin so that you could live on? Have you watched dwarrows die, choking on air, gasping for breath and asking for water?”

“Yes!” shouted Thorin, silencing the dwarf in front of him. “Yes, I have!”

A ragged breath left his body as Thorin could see images pass through him. The images of villages of men, of small houses, of half-collapsed mines and being turned away from everyone.

“I have seen dwarves die of wounds that could have been easily healed,” he said softly, looking down at his own hands. How many times had he tried? His voice echoed in the empty kingdom, “I have seen pebbles getting buried, dwarflings who were too young to die. I have let go of morsel so that the others could live. I have, we all have handled disrespect from men just so that they would pay us.”

Thorin’s voice broke as he continued, “I have seen my grandfather’s head being severed from his body; a dwarf’s ambition killing more dwarrows than ever necessary.”

He dared to look up. The faces were obscured of the dwarrows, through helmets and the darkness, but he could see marks of the dragon. In a limp, on a scarred tissue, and guilt resurged within him.

“Had we known that those who stayed behind lived, we would have never let you suffer. We would have come back, saved you-”

“It’s no use,” Silvertongue said softly, “You would have found nothing but a dragon protecting this kingdom. You would have never reached us. I do not blame any dwarf for fleeing for their life, for it has been more than a century, but now? Now, why did you return?”

Thorin took a deep breath and shook his head, “A fool’s quest, they called it. We came back for our home, to kill that beast. Because the prophecy told of the end of the beast?”

“A prophecy?” came the question.

“None had seen the dragon in over sixty years.”

“And why did you think that was?” the dam, the commander-in-chief, demanded. “Did you think that the dragon had just decided to take a nap? We worked, bound that beast, put a spell on him so that he would leave us in peace! A decade we spent planning, and it took you one night to undo all our hard work.”

Thorin hung his head. He had no words. Nothing to say, nothing to justify his actions.

“We apologize,” came Balin’s tired voice, “You have our utmost respect.”

“Well, it isn’t like that respect is going to save our lives, is it?” Silvertongue huffed, putting down his axe. He looked around, at the scattered Company, focusing on Thorin, “Are you the leader then? The leader of the dwarves who escaped?”

“Aye,” said Thorin, a weird end creeping up to him, “And you are the leader of the ones who stayed behind.”

The dwarf shrugged, as if it was an ordinary thing, “Someone had to do the job, isn’t it?”

“Indeed,” Thorin nodded, “You have done well, for your name was heard even in Mirkwood.”

That elicited a sad chuckle, “You have to make friends, Oakenshield if you are to live. And nothing brings people together than a common enemy.”

“Truly.”

“Adad,” whimpered Vorin.

Silvertongue turned, a sad smile on his face. He raised his voice and proclaimed, “Those who think you can live, run back to the village. Get out. We will stay back and fight that calamity when it comes.”

“We did not follow you, Your Majesty, to run,” came a singular cry from the army, a murmur rang through the dwarrows, “We will fight till our last breath.”

Silvertongue sighed, looking at them in resignation. He turned to his son.

“Vorin?”

The young dwarf pulled up his axe, holding it close to his chest, “I am young, father, not a coward.”

“Your mother never wanted you to come.”

“It was not her choice.”

Silvertongue nodded, turning to her second in command.

“You have lost your mind if you think I am going to leave you alone now.” the dam said almost in an offended tone.

“Of course,” he muttered, a small smile on his face. Faced with the choice of his people, he turned to Thorin, “Well, if these are our last moments, I would rather part as friends. We both belong to this mountain.”

“If this is to end in fire, we will all burn together.”

“Indeed,” smiled Silvertongue, “I would know the name of the dwarf who dared to partake on this foolish quest if he shall allow it.”

Thorin smiled sadly, looking back at all his Company once. “Thorin Oakenshield.”

The smile slipped off the dwarf’s face. With that one declaration, the mood in the mountain shifted. Curiosity brimmed in every corner as Silvertongue said, “What?”

“And this is my Company,” continued Thorin, unaware of the shift, “12 dwarrows and one, one Hobbit.”

His gaze lingered on Bilbo. Hadn’t he said at the beginning that this would end in his death? Thorin had never imagined that Bilbo would be with him when it came to that.

“Are you Thorin, son of Dain?”

The question brought Thorin out of his reverie. He could finally sense the change.

“Son of Dain? That lad is still growing,” Thorin found himself snorting at the comparison. The lad had bright copper hair like his father, not the raven hair of Durin’s line, “Why, you own your allegiance to Lord Dain?”

“I owe my allegiance to no one,” Silvertongue said strongly, but there was a desperation in his voice, “For what I remember, that name belonged to the prince of Erebor.”

“Aye, it does,” said Dwalin, stepping forward “This is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, rightful King Under the Mountain.”

Whatever Thorin had expected, he hadn’t expected the dwarf to stagger back and look at Thorin as if he had seen a ghost.

“You’re alive,” he murmured.

Thorin stood straight, looking at the leader with a confused expression, “You know of me, then.”

The dwarf let out a sort of half laugh-half cry, “Know of you? Of course I-” He threw his axe on the ground and waved his hand, as if he had lost his mind, “They told us that the King and Prince of Erebor died in the battle of Azanulbizar.”

Thorin raised an eyebrow. “Whoever gave you the news was right. King Thror was slain, and Prince Thrain went missing.”

A ripple of voices rose through the army as if it was all news for them. Reya and Vorin were frowning, seemingly having known otherwise. The leader had gone slack. From what of his face Thorin could see, his eyes were wide, his mouth parted in shock.

“I have been so foolish,” he muttered softly, but it echoed in the empty chamber, “I thought...I presumed...”

“That the line of Durin had ended?” growled Dwalin, “Where have you been, living in the mines?”

“Yes” murmured the dwarf.

Dwalin was certainly not expecting that. He looked at Thorin and Balin to confirm what they had heard was true, and by the look that they shared, it was clear that yes, the dwarf had just accepted to living into the mines.

“You lived in the mines?” Balin asked cautiously.

“Well,” Vorin slipped back into a childish demeanour, looking at the Company with a shrug, “Not exactly in the mines, but yes.”

That rose many eyebrows. The leader looked up, his eyes fixed on Thorin, “You are really alive.”

“Yes,” Thorin said softly, a bit concerned for Silvertongue, “Yes I am. And you have me at disadvantage, for you know my name yet I fail to recognize the dwarf who managed to best a dragon and fight me fair.”

To everyone's surprise, the dwarf let out a loud laugh, “You proclaim I am your equal then? Oh, I will never let you forget that.”

Thorin frowned. That was...not the reaction he was expecting. There was a sense of familiarity that Thorin just could not unsee. The dwarf knew him and knew him well. A playmate from youth? Another dwarf who learnt to fight with him and Dwalin?

“Laddie,” Balin started, “I would be very glad to know the name of the dwarf who shares the title with my late father if you would allow us to”

The commander’s eyes widened and Silvertongue let out a surprised laugh, “You are Balin, son of Fundin, aye?”

Balin, albeit confused, nodded. The leader grinned, cocking his head, “You have gone all...white. It’s truly like a dream. Am I dreaming?”

“I will show you dreams if you do not start talking,” growled Dwalin, his knuckles tight around his axe. Thorin pulled him back, glaring. That was not the time to fight.

The leader just laughed, “And you are Dwalin. And you have gone bald. A dwarf never goes bald.”

Dwalin growled, clutching his axe and ready to attack but Thorin again stopped him.

“Do not play games now. Say who you are.” He said it with all the authority he could muster.

The dwarf turned to face him. He did nothing for a second, and Thorin hated the wait. But then, he pulled off his helmet.

Golden locks fell across his face, his own beard grand had it not been one part of his face burnt off. There was no golden bead in the hair, but the braids named him a son of Durin. His eyes were just like Thorin’s, blue and riddled with grief.

“Which is it?” he demanded, “The hair or the voice that you are unable to recognize me? Or is it the scar of the Dragon?”

Thorin was unable to contain the gasp as the realization dawned on him. He could place the face in front of him in his childhood. The braids were new, and so was the scar that ran across his cheek, but the smile? It was the same as it had been years ago.

Balin and Dwalin seemed to have caught on too, for they had gone pale. Even Oin looked like he had seen a ghost, which was not entirely untrue.

“I know your face,” Thorin finally said, his voice cracking. He took a step forward, trying to make sure, “I never truly thought, I would see it again.”

An easy smile spread on the leader’s face, though his eyes were filled with tears. He looked like Fili. He took a step forward as well. The light from the gold illuminated both their faces.

Thorin froze once it was clear. He couldn’t. He needed to know...

“State your name,” Thorin said desperately, “Tell me. Tell me who you are.”

The leader chuckled, “You are still so impatient. And they called you the level headed one.”

Thorin continued to stare as the leader walked another step closer, and Thorin followed suit. The two were barely at a hand’s distance.

His voice cracked as he next spoke, “Frerin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, Lord Under the Mountain.”

The dragon could have flown back inside the mountain and proclaimed himself the King of Erebor, but none would have paid him any attention. Two groups of Dwarrow stood on either side of the battlefield, both frozen at the spot. Two generations of Princes of Erebor held out to each other, holding hands- one in desperation, other in surprise.

Thorin firmly held the hand in front of him. They were huge. Not like the hands that once fit in his palms and would then emit a cry.

“You did not recognize me,” said Frerin, his voice still scratchy, but somewhat playful.

“You did not recognize me either,” Thorin huffed, sounding close to tears. “You grew your beard.”

“And you cut yours.”

Thorin did not reply to that. He grabbed Frerin tighter, shaking his head.

“I thought I had lost you in the Dragonfire. But you are here, you are real.”

“I do not take kindly to being called a ghost, nadad.”

That was all it took before Thorin had pulled Frerin in his own arms. The two brothers held on to each other tightly, tears flowing freely from their eyes.

“Frerin,” Thorin pulled him tighter, before laying a hand on Frerin’s head as if cradling a child.

Frerin pushed himself deeper into the embrace, letting his heart cry out. He shut his eyes and clutched on to the Thorin’s tunic.

The warmth that encompassed the Durin princes felt unreal. Every breath felt like a dream, every moment fear of waking up back in their minds. But the moment stretched, and both slowly loosened the hold. Not to say that they could let go of each other. It was still new. The contact was all that kept them sane at the moment.

The brothers stood there as everyone watched. Some cried themselves, other looked awed. Nobody had clearly expected the other to be alive.

The two parted after what felt like a millennium, but still less than a second. Frerin’s hands were now on Thorin’s shoulder, looking at him like he had seen Mahal himself.

Thorin spoke first, “We thought you dead.”

“I thought you dead,” said Frerin, breathing deeply, “We were both wrong.”

Thorin shook his head, laughing softly to himself, “How?”

“It is a long story,” was all that Frerin managed, before letting out a chuckle and again falling into Thorin’s embrace.

Thorin, who normally shied away from such public display of affection, let himself be this time. It had been long since he had felt his younger brother curl up to him. Dis was never like Frerin, following Thorin around religiously. She never begged Thorin to get her out of mischief as he did. She never curled up against him on dark nights after fighting just that morning.

Thorin had never thought that Dis was a contender or even a playmate. She was always his responsibility, and he bore that with grace. But that day, when he had run out of the mountain with Frerin lost, he had truly lost his childhood.

Letting out a ragged breath, Thorin placed his head on Frerin’s head. They were equally tall. It had once been unimaginable.

Just as they pulled back, looking at each other in wonder, Dori’s voice rang out in the halls.

“THE DRAGON IS DEAD!”

  
  



	20. See Your World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAH! thank you for your amazing responses guys! they were awesome and made me so damn pumped!
> 
> WE HAVE REACHED 500 KUDOS AND MORE THAN 10,000 HITS AAAH YOU GUYS!!! I LOVE YOU ALL!
> 
> This chapter will have possibly the last flashback. It was supposed to end with Desolation of Smaug, and so here it ends. I am really happy how much you enjoyed them! I will probabaly post One-shots and side stories in the series so if you wanna see something, do let me know!
> 
> I am gonna be introducing two of my OC's that I have loved crafting! They are awesome and I love em and AAAh, no more spoilers!
> 
> Without further ado, here's the chapter!

The mountain was utterly silent. No footsteps echoed in the corridors, no whispers were exchanged. In all the years of its existence, Erebor had never been so silent. Despite being filled with Dwarrows, the children of stone, a silence unprecedented followed the loud declaration by the youngest son of Ri.

The said youngest son was shielded by his eldest brother as if being protected by the army of dwarrows. But it was a fascinating picture that Ori saw, and by the looks of his face, he was committing it to his memory to ink it down later.

The two Kings of Erebor, one of the mountain and the other of the people, stood in each others’ arms. Their closeness was unexpected, but only so because the Ri brothers had missed the grand declarations in order to follow the dragon and warn the others of the impending doom.

Only, the time for warning never came.

The dragon had spread his wings, letting the golden metal fall on the dried land. In years to come, it would be a relic of the past, the gleaming gold on the roads to Erebor. At the moment, it was the beginning of death.

It flew and burnt the wooden town of Men to ground. One row after the other, and Ori would say he could hear the screams of the men. It flew, it landed, it growled, and it looked at the mountain. Then, Smaug took off in the air, only to fall down in the centre of the town.

That was a moment that the RI brothers would never forget.

“The Dragon is dead,” said Dori, looking around at the flabbergasted expressions, breaking the silence, “Ori and I saw it fall.”

“We also spotted the ravens,” said Ori, trying to speak to all, “They took off to flight just as the first rays of morning sun came out.”

Balin let out a deep staggering breath, “All of Arda will know of the Dragon’s death by the day end, then.”

“You saw him fall?”

Eyes turned to the Golden King, his eyes wide. “You saw Smaug fall on Lake-Town?”

Ori nodded. He had no reason to believe the dwarf, but seeing as he was currently nestled between Thorin’s arms, there sure was more to the story than he was privy to.

“Mahal,” the dwarf would have dropped on his knees had Thorin’s arms not held him up. The said King himself was frozen, like a statue.

“What,” Reya came up, beside The King, “What does that mean? The Dragon is dead- what does that even mean?”

To think of a life where the beast fo Erebor was gone was truly something that none had even thought about. Not those who had learnt about the dragon as a child learnt about his toes. Yes, there had been fantasies of a life where the mountain was full and bursting with activity, where the Dragon never arrived, where life was not being pulled apart. But they were dreams of a tired dwarf, not a reality.

Nobody had even thought that it would be a reality.

Silvertongue slowly stood up straight, pulling himself away from Thorin’s arms.

“We need to get to the village,” he said loudly, though it was hard to miss the shakiness in his voice, “If the Dragon is, is indeed gone, then our allies will need our help. Onwards!”

* * *

Erebor was huge. The pillars rose higher than the Elves’ did, the statues looming over the small dwarves. Bilbo honestly would not have been surprised to see houses like that.

But to his immense surprise, the further deeper they walked in the mountain, the lower the ceiling got. Soon, men would have to stoop to get further. The corridors got narrower, and the grandiosity of Erebor disappeared into the homeliness of Dwarves.

As they walked through the lanes, Bilbo could tell they were in the residential, though the houses looked abandoned. They were carved right out of stone, and had it not been for the ceiling they could have been passed for houses of men.

Not that horrible though- the houses of Dwarrows were smooth, rising from the ground up till the ceiling. There was at least one window beside each rectangular door, sometimes with a ledge. There were no gardens and no gates. The shapes of the houses varied, some covering areas larger than a small hill, other ending in ten steps.

Balin quietly and giddily informed him that they were in the residences of the common. Apparently, the older dwarf would sneak out of the royal quarters into the commons just to meet with a few of his old friends. To think that Balin, Dwalin and Thorin would sneak out of their lessons to come into places like this was truly a fabulous picture.

They moved out of the residences, and soon a bigger area captured Bilbo's interest. They were moving slowly, but he would have still liked to examine the stone benches on either side. The roads were getting wider, the ceiling again higher, with three floors visible before the end came. The roads moved at odd angles, but Bilbo could soon see a pattern.

“It’s so silent.”

Thorin’s voice was hard to miss. Bilbo looked up, where Thorin walked just behind Frerin. Though it was clear that the younger dwarf was leading, Thorin too knew exactly where they were going.

“Aye,” Frerin agreed, looking around, “Some wanted to come out here, but reopening these markets would only lead to Smaug’s attention.”

Another wave of silence passed through everyone. It wasn’t a silence of discomfort, but rather of tiredness. Everyone was happy, suddenly breaking into a smile or letting out a deep sigh. Bilbo had expected a loud gathering like the one in his home - and didn't that feel like it was a lifetime ago?- and was clearly shocked to see the quiet that followed.

But he did not blame anyone. After facing that beast, Bilbo could understand what these dwarves felt like.

As the markets began to narrow down and become cruder, Frerin turned, leading the Company and his army into an extremely thin, rounded corridor. It was hard for two people to even walk side by side. Bilbo felt suffocated by the stone, but the dwarves all were happy in their element.

They abruptly came to a stop when the corridor ended. Bilbo blinked, trying to understand exactly what they were to do when Frerin raised his fits and lightly knocked on the stone wall.

A moment passed, and the stone wall began to slide across. Before bilbo could truly even comprehend, the corridor lighted up from within.

Bilbo rubbed his eyes and was being pushed forward. He followed carefully. There, at the end of the corridor, was a village carved out of stone.

Trying and failing to close his mouth, Bilbo watched at the honeycomb-like structure. There were many corridors going further inside, but in the centre, two floors below from where they stood, was an open area that could possibly rival the party field of Hobbiton and three to five floors rose above them. Roads were running just beside the walls, and some houses like the residence he had passed just in front of his eyes. Unlike the darkened corridors he had passed, the village was lit up, bursting with silent activity. There was something on the ceiling which gave light to everything and had Bilbo not know how deep within they were into the mountain, he would have thought that it was the sunlight.

“This is just like Thorin’s Halls in Ered Luin!” Kili whispered excitedly to Fili, looking around, “Mahal, Fili, this is just like home!”

“yes,” Fili said with a small laugh, “It is.”

“Ah, the Miner’s headquarters,” Balin sighed happily, “I should have known.”

“the what?” Bilbo asked, looking around.

Balin smiled softly at Bilbo, “This is the entrance to the mines, bilbo. Do you see all those lanes? They lead further and deeper into the greatest mines of Erebor. Since half of our people are dedicated to our crafts, they liked to spend their time close to their workplace. We called this place the Village, mini-Erebor. The minders lived here while they worked.”

That made some sense. As they descended the last of stairs and into the field, Bilbo saw a dwarf standing there, glaring at the lot. Behind them was perhaps teh whoel population fo Erebor. 

Had he not known about Frerin, Bilbo would have thought that dwarf in front was the leader of the place. A built like Thorin’s, taller than every other dwarf save Thorin himself, dark red hair that was intricately braided with sparse hair on the chin that came down in two braids, a piercing pair of brown eyes and dressed in heavy yet practical garb. It was dwarrowdam, looking at Thorin with a calculating gaze.

Frerin stepped up, holding the dam and gently knocking heads with her. Her features softened, and as she leaned forward Bilbo realized that one of her hands were made of metal.

The two exchanged gentle words in Khudzul, and Bilbo could catch the words meaning ‘family’, ‘brother’ and ‘quest’, before a very gentle _Amralime_. Ignoring the knowing looks in the Company, Bilbo focused on her expression as Frerin recounted the tale of the night, considering his movements.

Her face morphed from distaste to shock as she turned to look at the dwarves.

“the dragon is dead,” she whispered, looking for confirmation as Dori and Ori nodded. The confirmation made her react the same way as Frerin did, before she turned to the gaggle of people behind her.

Raising her hands, she shouted, “the dragon is dead!”

Silence reigned for a moment before everyone burst into excited chatter and questions. She did not try to quiet them down, neither did Frerin.

She turned to Thorin, bowing deeply, “I am Dreya, daughter of Nadir, Queen Under the Mountain. Welcome to Erebor.”

Thorin bowed a smile on his face, “Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror. Lady Dreya, Dis’ old playmate?”

A wistful smile spread on her face, “indeed. I did not think you would remember.” She hesitated before asked, “is Dis?”

“Alive,” said Thorin, and both Frerin and Dreya broke into grins, “Well. She is back in Ered Luin, ruling in my stead. Had she known what we were to find in Erebor, I am sure Dis would have joined the quest.”

“If she is still how I remember her, I will not be surprised,” Dreya said with a smile, before turning to Frerin, “The morning sun has just risen, but after last night, I expect all of you will be quite tired. I am afraid we do not have accommodations like the royal quarters.”

Dwalin grunted, “We are in Erebor. You could give us caverns and mines to sleep in and none would complain.”

Frerin snorted, “you surely wouldn’t, considering you have slept in mines.”

As Dwalin directed a glare in Frerin’s direction, Balin, Gloin and Oin burst into laughter, clearly remembering old tales. Frerin had a cheeky grin to rival Kili’s, and Thorin looked like he was failing to reign in the laugh.

The Army had dispersed, leaving behind the Company, the commander-in-chief, and Reya and Vorin. As they followed Dreya and Frerin, the commander came to walk beside Thorin.

“Thorin,” she said softly.

Thorin smiled gently, “Courisn Kiri. I certainly did not expect to see you alive.”

The commander, Kiri, snorted, “We thought you were dead, you grouch. And here you show up, your other cousins in tow who are clearly as mad as you.”

“Now, lady Kiri,” Balin said sweetly, and Bilbo was quite amused at the look he gave the dam, “Not all Durins are that bad.”

“Keep it in your pants, Balin,” said Kiri, earning chuckles and grins from his other cousins and laughter form the Ri’s and the Ur’s, “Just because you know diplomacy does not mean that you are any better from the rest of these dunderheads.”

Saying so, she walked ahead to the Royal Couple. Thorin turned to Balin, his eyebrow raised.

“Oh shut up Thorin!”

“I did not say a word, my friend.”

* * *

_There was a small spot in the back garden of Bag End where nothing grew. Once, Bilbo Baggins had planted a seed there which failed to sprout. Since then, it lay barren._

_Young Bain was laid down beside his sister, covered in white cloth. An epitaph was placed just at the head, to symbolize their shared heritage._ _Bilbo looked at t_ _he_ _beautiful stone that Thorin had carved. They had names, both in Westron and in Khudzul._

_Edis and Bain._

_With a sigh, Bilbo sat down, looking at the soil below his feet. He had understood the tradition of cheer after death, to share a life. But how did you celebrate a life that was never lived?_

_It had been months. Winter had come to an end, spring almost there. Taking in a deep breath, Bilbo looked at the names. They had made such plans, such grand ideas. But both times they had failed. No matter what, Thorin did not deserve that._

“ _Bilbo?”_

_The young Hobbit slowly looked up. Thorin stood there, his face wearing a neutral mask. In his hand he held a cup of tea that Bilbo refused to drink._

_As he shook his head, Thorin said, “Bilbo. Please. It will make you better.”_

“ _It can also render me infertile,” muttered Bilbo, turning to look back the epitaphs._

“ _I would rather just have you instead of a family.”_

_Bilbo said nothing. The tea was dumped, and not spoken of again. Thorin helped Bilbo stand up, for the master of Bag End could not even walk. Thorin led him to the bed, and with a meager meal, both went off to sleep._

_Thorin succumbed to the fatigue of looking after his husband the whole day, but Bilbo could not bring himself to sleep. He watched as the night sky turned purple through the window, and the birds began to chirp. With a sigh, Bilbo got out of bed._

_It was a hard task to move on his own, but Thorin had laboured himself to death. He had not even returned to the mountain, Bilbo thought bitterly. But there was no question to how much his people meant to Thorin, and Bilbo would not be the one to take that from him._

_As he got the kettle boiling, his eyes fell on the packet his aunt had left him. It was nestled between the tea leaves, but Bilbo knew all his leaves very well._

_Picking it up along with the canister of tea, Bilbo dropped a few leaves and the tea leaves into the boiling water. Once ready, he poured it into a cup. The sun was just beginning to rise, and on normal days Bilbo would have taken his tea outside._

_But that day, he just looked at the rising sun from the window, and slowly sipped on the tea. Despite feeling nothing than usual, Bilbo felt an emptiness deep in his heart._

_When Thorin woke up, he first angrily scolded Bilbo, then enveloped him into a bone-crushing hug._

“ _When do you leave?” Bilbo asked quietly._

_Thorin looked at him, shaking his head. “I do not have to.”_

“ _Don’t be absurd,” Bilbo said neutrally, “You have a kingdom to run.”_

“ _Bilbo...”_

“ _I think I am going to go off on an adventure. Spend some time with my Took cousins, go west and see the sea. Perhaps even go east, visit the Elves.”_

_For the longest moment, Thorin said nothing. Then, he let out a sigh, and said, “If you wish to.”_

“ _Oh, I certainly do. That Crossbow and that sword were not meant to be hung on the wall, were they?”_

_And thus started the story of Mad Baggins. The Hobbit, who had weapons. The Hobbit, who was married to a dwarf. The Hobbit, who went on adventures._

_The Hobbit, who did not really have a family anyways._

* * *

“I do not trust them, Amad.”

“You do not have to. They are Durins. Your family.”

“They also woke up a dragon and are responsible for Lake-town’s destruction.”

“thorin is your father’s elder brother, hence your idad, and you will treat him with respect.”

“Amad, he is responsible for all of this! You surely cannot be defending him! We don’t know who he is, who any of them are.”

“Reya...”

“Adad doesn’t know any of them, he hasn’t since his own childhood!”

That was the conversation Fili walked in on after waking up from his nap. They were lead to a well to do house, much like the house of older nobles of Ered Luin. There were enough rooms in there though many would have once belonged to servants. But nobody complained for everyone had lived through worse.

Promises to talk over lunch had ensured and soon everyone was asked to relax. Fili did get some sleep, but then Kili’s grumbling in his dreams woke him up and he was unable to go back to sleep.

As he navigated through the corridors, he accidentally stumbled upon the Queen Dreya and Princess Reya discussing them. He haad not meant to overhear, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“it does not matter,” said Dreya, sitting across her daughter on the table, “Durins are true to their families. I knew Thorin when I was a child, and he was a good prince. From what I hear, he is not so bad a King. Only half of the dwarves in his Company are his kin, the others being commoners.”

Reya frowned, “How can you possibly know that so soon?”

“Keep your ears open, and pay attention when they are talking,” she said with a soft smile, “Reya, I understand your apprehension. But what could he possibly do?”

“Overthrow Adad as the King?” said Reya, “He is the older brother, the Crown prince. They made this journey to reclaim Erebor, and now they have. He has all the legitimate reasons.”

That quieted Dreya down. She silently thought, before saying, “I do not know what sort of a King he was, but even if he was to inherit the throne of Erebor, Thorin is not going to kick us out.”

“He could make our life miserable.”

“Mahal, are you listening to yourself? I know you are not very trusting of strangers, but this is an extended family. I will expect to be on your best behaviour around them, crown princess or not. Do you understand me?”

“yes, Amad.”

Fili had had enough. He could understand their reasons, but they weren’t cruel tyrants! And surely, he did not know this part of his family either, considering nobody knew they existed, but he was not going to make assumptions.

Straightening his coat, Fili walked in loudly, earning both the dam’s attention.

“Lady Dreya,” he said politely, bowing to the older dam, “Lady Reya.”

Dreya smiled gently, “I apologize, but in the excitement, I do not think I got your name.”

“Fili, son of Dis, at your service.”

A surprised smile spread on her face, “Dis? Oh well, how is she?”

Taking it as an invitation, Fili seated himself on a chair, leaving a seat between him and Reya and facing the older dam. “Well. As Thorin mentioned, she is ruling in his place. We ought to send her the note that we are safe and alive and that Erebor is, well, standing. She is going to hide us if we do not tell her first.”

That elicited a laugh from the older dam, “She was always the most formidable Dwarf ever.”

Fili smiled, looking over at Reya who looked most displeased.

“So what are we to do next?” asked Fili, “I believe there is much to go on.”

Dreya nodded, “After lunch, we are going to send a small company to the Men.”

At Fili’s surprised expression, Reya said, “They are our friends, and Lake Town is clearly destroyed. So will most of their resources.”

“But I thought they had moved to the shores near the Elvenking’s forest.”

“That’s a temporary settlement,” explained Dreya, “And I do not think they will have enough to last through the upcoming winter. The reason we have survived so long, Master Fili, is because we kept a good relationship with the men.”

Fili nodded understandingly. Before he could ask any more questions, Gloin walked in with Balin, laughing about something. Soon after, the Company all came out and settled onto the large stone table, along with Frerin, Vorin and Kiri.

Bilbo had decided to sit beside Fili, a permanent frown etched on his face. When Fili asked him, the Hobbit just shook his head and patted the younger dwarf. Fili looked up to Thorin, but found him engaged in a serious talk with Balin.

The meal was simple, with just enough to last them through the day. Nobody complained, because with the desolation of Smaug and the winter coming up, everyone could guess how hard it would be to survive in the mountain, especially with little to no trade.

Throughout the dinner, Thorin introduced his companions to Frerin and his family. The cousins got a good laugh, the prospect of meeting again cheering them all. At meeting the Ur cousins and the Ri brothers, Frerin nodded politely and welcomed them to Erebor. When Thorin introduced Fili and Kili, Frerin’s mouth fell open.

“Dis procreated?” he asked, shocked, “Mahal, I pity the world.”

Both Fili and Kili took that as a compliment.

When thorin introduced Bilbo, both Fili and Kili held their breath. He was introduced as the ‘company burglar’ and a ‘very close friend of mine’. Though not explicitly stated, anyone who knew what to hear for could understand what Thorin was implying.

Frerin had clearly caught on the meaning, and so had everyone else, for they looked mostly shocked at the idea of Thorin having a Hobbit lover. Frein politely smiled, and bowed, saying, “Glad to meet you, Master Baggins.”

“Pleasure is mine, Master Frerin.”

Neither asked the other to call them by the first name, and there was a weird energy passing around in the room as Thorin assessed the situation.

“Now, we are rested, and fed,” he said, “Frer, you need to tell me what happened.”

* * *

The faces of Dwarrows dropped, years of sorrow and hardships reflecting on their faces.

“It is not a rewarding story, nadad,” Frerin said softly, “We haven’t had easy lives, and what you see around you today is fairly recent.”

“None here are strangers to hardships,” said Thorin, “We have lived on roads, and in places where no man would dwell. But this isn’t about that. How...how did you survive the dragon?”

Frerin sighed, leaning forward on the table, “Through a very, very large stroke of luck.”

Kiri snorted and swatted Frerin’s head from the other side where she sat, “It was hardly luck, you idiot, and more of your planning. Give yourself some credit.”

Frerin gave her a half-hearted glare, bu turned to his brother nevertheless.

“When the Dragon came, I was far away from the treasury. Amad and I...we were in mines, dealing with a few miners about the stones for Dis’ birthday crown. The calamity came first, and name followed hours later. It was a mess, with everybody running around and fire sprouting in almost every corridor you could turn into. Somewhere, in that madness, Amad pushed me through a corner in the mines.”

“Did she...”

Frerin shook his head, “I did not go back till the Dragon was asleep. She has been laid down with the rest of our kin and the other dwarrows deep in the mountain.”

Thorin nodded, tears threatening to slip from his eyes. It was one thing else, saying that his Amad was gone, and another to truly know it.

“There were many who had made to the mines,” said Frerin, “Miners, traders, dams and children, the elderly. The fire continued to burn for days later. Those who went out too fast, perished. Other, we took care of the pattern. How the Dragon moved, what he did...any slight movement could rouse that beast, so we tried to make it to the possible exits.”

“The main entryways had collapsed,” Balin said mournfully.

Frerin nodded, “We lost many in that chase as well. The last of us, who you see in this village, had all gone off to the Western guardroom.”

“Was it open?” asked Thorin.

Frerin shook his head, “the door was blocked. Food and water were scarce, and enough were wounded.”

As he choked up, Thorin immediately reached out to put his hand on Frerin’s back. He sent him a grateful smile and closed his eyes, resting his head down.

Frerin sent Kiri a grateful smile as she continued, “We spent ages there. Stole food from every house. Figured no one was exactly going to worry about missing flour in the middle of a beast throwing fire around.”

Low chuckles ran through the dwarrows.

“Soon we got our strength back. Moved around, found a small opening on the east side of the mountain. Got digging, carefully, while someone else distracted Smaug.”

“You actively engaged with the dragon?” Bilbo asked, eyes wide.

“Yes, and more often than not it was this idiot exchanging words with the beast.”

Frerin’s hand automatically reached his scar, a troubled expression on his face, “he certainly did not like me a lot.”

“It was nothing personal,” said Kiri dryly, earning a bashful grin from Frerin.

She turned to Thorin, her eyes heavy, “Got out, realized a lot of time had passed and the lot who escaped first was long gone.”

“How long?” asked Thorin.

“A year.”

Everyone turned to see Dreya.

“What?”

She nodded solemnly, “From what we heard the last of Dwarrows had either turned to Iron Hills to their extended familied or followed the last fo Durins to ask aid from other kingdoms.”

“I was foolish,” muttered Frerin, looking back up, “Smaug once threw me a ring of Sign’adad. I thought he had killed him, considering how he was boasting, and I thought Adad and you were the only ones left. And when news of Azanulbizar came, we thought both you and him had perished. Did not even dare to venture further west then.”

“But that was ages later,” Said Balin, perplexed, “Why didn’t you follow sooner?”

“Multiple reasons,” said Kiri, “Many were still wounded. By the time they got better, Smaug had gotten wind of the fact that we had escaped. He felt it an insult, I think. Hunted us all around.”

“He hunted you?”

“For years. We and the Men, we had to run, but we could never get far enough. I farther I had been of Erebor then would be the borders of Mirkwood, where the Levenking oh so graciously offered us no aid.”

Thorin breathed angrily, “Thranduil knew you lived?”

“not me personally,” said Frerin, “But he knew of the survivors, aye. He refused to help. Had it not been for Tauriel, we would have been dead.”

“Tauriel?”

Everyone looked as Kili’s eyes jumped out of their sockets, “you know her?”

Frerin nodded, somewhat amused, “She was always the most reasonable Elf. Helped us get back, secured our homes. She, the children fo lord Girion and I, we made sure that the people here did not die every time that sadistic beats came out.”

Kili continued to gape, but Thorin ignored him in favour of learning more. He would deal with his nephew’s infatuation later.

“So that’s how you lived? Running for your lives?”

Frerin shrugged, as if it was a mere inconvenience, “It got too much, eventually. Tauriel, Gert, Girion’s grandson and I, we got together to hatch a plan. To put the Dragon to sleep.”

“You put the Dragon to sleep?” asked Fili, “What did you do, sing him a lullaby?”

To Fili’s surprise, Frerin laughed, “It was one of the ideas, aye. No, we put a spell on it. How else do you think we could have come back inside the mountain and live here, with the ears and nose of a dragon? I engaged him in a conversation, which has always been my favourite pastime, as Tauriel and Gert put a spell on him. It worked, he fell in his bloody gold and did not wake up until you all decided to show up.”

The Dwarves had the audacity to look ashamed, but that was it.

“You bested a dragon more than once, through your words,” said Thorin slowly, “Truly nadad, you earn your name.”

Frerin gave out a long sigh, “Well, everyone out of this place insists on calling me that instead of using my name.”

Shaking his head, Frerin said, “We will continue this conversation later. I want to hear all about your life. Now, however, we ought to help our friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, this is sort of an apology update?
> 
> Okay, so the deal is that I had said I had planned it all out but I might have been sort of...confused. After writing this new chapter I realized that the chapters come next was written ages ago and thus, they are missing a lot of stuff. Usually, I would not mind and work on it at once, but the upcoming week has given me some very heavy readings and all these exams...ughh. So sorry it might take a while, and the chapters, well, I never beta them but they might even worse. Sorry about that! 
> 
> Meanwhile, enjoy! Please please review they keep me going! Especially what you think will happen or can happen! Thank you so much


	21. Live on in this new World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yaaay! I am back!   
> Am I done with the planning?   
> Sort of  
> Did it turn out to be more dramatic than I intended it to be?  
> Yes.  
> I have added so many things in the recent chapters that I did not even expect.   
> i might go back and edit a few chapters, but if I do I will give you all a heads up. For now, enjoy this lovely chapter! We are venturing into the Battle of Five Armies!  
> Are you ready?   
> WARNINGS! CHECK END NOTES!

They first heard the sound of the hooves. Those who had lived their lives in the Lonely mountain barely gave one glance, but those who had spent their lives on the other side of the mountain went alert at once.

“Relax,” said Vorin, carrying the basket of woollen clothes over to the cart. Fili and kili both looked at the younger dwarf. His shoulders were stooped, his hands free, while both Fili and Kili had their swords in their hands.

“Those were horse hooves,” Fili raised an eyebrow, staring at Vorin. The younger dwarf merely rolled his eyes.

“The only people who know this place are our friends,” said he, picking up another basket of clothes, “and if any orc dares to come here, they will die.”

They were standing in a small alcove on the western side of the mountain. Hidden by rising mountains, it was easy to overlook the area, which opened up both to the open land and the village of Erebor.

Kili opened his mouth, but no sound came out as his eyes traced to the figure that came bounding down the road.

Out in the sun, close to the village but over the ground, the Dwarves of Erebor were busy getting supplies. Some would think seeing an Elf enter the settlement and directly moving to meet the King of Dwarrows was a bold statement, but for the natives, this was nothing new.

Frerin was discussing the intricacies of the supplies to be delivered to men, but the sound of light boots had him looking over. A pleasant smile spread over his face as he hurriedly finished the talk, turned to the elf and put a hand over his chest.

“Tauriel, welcome back!”

The red-headed elf looked around with a smile, “Silvertongue. You all look well.”

Frerin nodded, looking around, “I believe the men took the brunt of last night.”

Tauriel turned, and her eyes locked with Kili. He was unabashedly staring at her, a surprised expression his face. She smiled, and without tearing away her eyes from the younger dwarf, said, “I see the prisoners of Mirkwood have made their way to Erebor after all.”

“hmm?” Frerin followed her line of sight and saw his sister-sons. “Ah, yes. That’s Fili and Kili-”

“I know”

“-my sister sons.”

The words that left both mouths had them confused.

“You know them?” Frerin asked confusedly.

“Who do you think captured them?” Tauriel asked, before squinting her eyes, “Sister-sons?”

Frerin shrugged as if saying ‘what could one do’. “My kin survived. I was wrong to think otherwise.”

“Ah,” Tauriel cocked her head, “That explains Thorin Oakenshield’s insistence on re-capturing the mountain.”

Snorting, Frerin gestured her to move with him, “There is nothing to capture, and my brother understands that. At this moment, truly, I am just happy to have my family back.”

As Taurel gave him a suspicious look, Freroin grew sombre, “How fair the Men? Do you know anything?”

Tauriel sighed, nodding, “I was in Lake-Town when the beast came.”

Frerin turned to her, worry etched on his face, “Are you well? What happened?”

“Nothing to worry, my friend,” said Tauriel, “Bard exhibits the same mind and strength as his ancestors. He made sure that the majority of people had left, and while many perished, the Master was among them.”

“Who leads Lake Town then?”

“The last I saw, Bard the DragonSlayer was the leader of men of Lake-Town.”

A huge smile spread over Frerin’s face. “So it was he who killed Smaug. He finally managed to earn his name.”

“Don’t be so patronizing.”

Frerin made a gesture saying ‘who? Me?’

“Bard has been a brave man,” said Tauriel, “facing more hardships than any other.”

“That I will agree with,” said Frerin, “Where are they settled? As you can see we have been preparing carts to help men.”

“Some have turned to Elvenking,” said Tauriel, “and he might help. I know not. The ones who follow Bard are making their way to ruins fo Dale.”

“Brilliant!” exclaimed Frerin, “the closer they are to us the better. Bard is wise.”

“Yes,” Tauriel was nodding, but a frown was etched on her face, “But I believe there is much more afoot. I followed the trail of orcs who attacked our land when the Company of Dwarves escaped. Following them is what led me and Prince Legolas to Lake-Town. While the dragon awoke, the orcs attacked the men.”

Frerin grew serious, “Whatever do the orcs need form men?”

“I think they were under the assumption that the dwarves were still in lake-town. Why, I know not. But the orc sightings in the past few days have been alarmingly large. Furthermore, the orc that Legolas captured bore the mark of Gundabad.”

The face of the laughing dwarf turned furious. Very few had seen that expression on his face, those who spent battles with him being a few.

“Gundabad,” growled Frerin, “Tauriel, you bring very disturbing news.”

“Indeed, and Prince Legolas and I are off to investigate. I thought it necessary to inform you of this. Winter is coming, and you might need to prepare your warriors for a battle.”

“That filth would not see the light of day if I have a say in it.”

Tauriel nodded, “Be careful my friend. I must be off, I cannot stray for long.”

Frerin nodded, bidding the older elf goodbye. He turned, and Tauriel moved forward when the voice of a young prince brought her to halt.

“Prince Kili.”

Kili grinned, shaking his head, “I thought I was Master Kili.”

“That was before I knew of your status.”

“Does the status change much?”

tauriel smiled softly, “Frerin is an old friend. I would not do anything to harm him.”

Kili frowned, “Harm him?”

“You are young, and I have lived long and I will long.”

“Why does the time matter?” asked Kili, “You have made me feel more alive than I have ever felt.”

As Tauriel looked at him, surprised, Kili said, “I may be young, but I know what I feel.”

“I can’t.”

“Tauriel. Amralime.”

The expression of shock was enough, “Kili, do not bind yourself to a life that you would rather regret.”

“I believe that is my choice,” said Kili, “and anymore, you do not refuse what I say.”

“It’s good, to be honest to those who matter.”

Though it should have filled Kili with happiness, the underlying tone of longingness was hard to miss. As Tauriel turned to leave, Kili grabbed her hand gently. As he placed the token in her hand, she gasped.

“I thought the stone was cursed.”

“Perhaps it is. I am asking you not to read it, but hold on to the promise that binds to it.”

Kili gave her one smile, which she replied a bit softly, before turning on her heels and walking away.

“Careful, brother,” said Fili, coming up beside Kili “She is an elf.”

“Uncle has a hobbit,” Kili shrugged.

Fili snorted, “She is a Mirkwood Elf. Thorin hates them.”

“Frerin clearly likes the lot.”

“Someone call my name?”

The brothers jumped. Frerin stood between the brothers, grinning.

“Mahal, you are worse than Amad!” muttered Fili.

“Where do you think she learnt it from?" Frerin wiggled his eyebrows, "Ah, never mind children.”

'Children?' mouthed Fili, earning a grin from Kili.

“Would you like to stay in the Mountain or go with others to Dale?”

The two sons of Dis exchanged a glance. For a moment, Frerin could almost feel like they were having a telepathic conversation. he was about to interject when Kili opened his mouth.

“We have all our lives to see the mountain. Helping survivors is more important.”

Frerin smiled, a tad proud, before nodding.

“Well then, I will let Reya know.”

* * *

The thing was that Bilbo never planned till the moment he had reached. His mind had supplied him with two ideas- either he would lose his beloved or he would be crowned and Bilbo would have to maintain his distance. The predicament that he had ended up in was something that he could not have imagined, and by the looks of it, neither had the dwarrows.

While Bilbo could have stayed beside his dear Husband, he realized that they had entered a territory where he virtually had no job. Thorin had shut himself inside a room with Balin, Dwalin, Oin and Gloin, planning things that went beyond Bilbo’s own understanding. Fili and Kili had taken over the responsibility of knowing their cousins and helping the men, and the Ur cousins had willingly followed them. Ori had followed Lady Dreya into the village to get to know their story, and nobody had any idea where Nori was.

Which left Bilbo with Dori.

Not that Bilbo was complaining. Dori’s coldness towards Bilbo had significantly lessened from the beginning, and on good days Bilbo was sure he could hold a nice conversation with the dwarf, especially about tea.

But he knew Dori as well as he knew Bifur. And Bifur could not speak Westron.

So when the day began and Bilbo found himself at a loss of what to do, he reached out to the oldest Ri brother for Company.

For his part, Dori merely smiled and said, “Of course you can join me, Master Baggins! You did not even have to ask.”

A few months ago he would have killed Bilbo with a glare, but well.

So Bilbo followed Dori outside the small village, taking leave from Lady Dreya. She looked peculiarly at the two, but nodded and cautioned them not to go too far. She opened her mouth, but cut it short, laughing softly to herself and bidding them goodbye.

“Probably cautioning us against Smaug,” Dori whispered as they made their way outside the village, “Oh, poor them. I cannot truly imagine living as they did.”

Bilbo nodded, walking along. They passed the same markets and the same houses they had done while going to the village. But instead of following the main path, Dori took a different turn.

He led Bilbo deeper into the residences, where houses became cramped. All the while they said nothing, just two people walking in the darkness with only one torch that Dori held emitting soft light.

The road twisted and turned, and Bilbo was sure he would never be able to get out without the older dwarf so he snuck close. It was towards the very end when Dori came to an abrupt stop, a soft gasp escaping his mouth.

Bilbo peeked over Dori’s shoulder, which was a feat, to see a very small house nestled between two others. The door was half-open, and the place looked as dirty as the others.

Without a word, Dori walked inside, and Bilbo followed. Once they reached in he realized that the house was actually bigger. The entrance was a long corridor and once a few steps in, it opened in a larger room which then had various rooms around.

“A carpet used to lie here,” Dori said softly, “and that room used to be mine.”

“This is your house?”

Dori smiled softly, walking up to the door he had pointed to, “Amad and Adad bought this house. I had expected Adad to be here.”

Bilbo’s nerves went cold. 

“He might have been laid down with others,” Bilbo said softly.

Dori smiled softly, “Nobody would have marked the tomb. Everyone that knew him either ran or died.”

Bilbo lay a hand on Dori’s shoulder, pressing gently. Dori looked back, smiling softly. His eyes were filled with tears. Bilbo had never seen Dori so vulnerable, and he truly felt lost.

“I lost my father soon after I gained my majority,” Bilbo said suddenly. He did not know how it began, but Dori was clearly interested as he looked over at him. Swallowing his fear, Bilbo said, “It was a hard winter. The river that protected us had frozen. I was one of the very few Hobbits who knew how to fight, along with my mother. Pa didn’t, but he insisted on following us.”

Blinking back the tears, Bilbo remembered the proper Baggins who was so in love with his adventurous son and wife, “The wolves came over and put up a horrid fight. The Rangers got there, but not in time. Later, we had to bury a mangled body.”

He had not even realized that the tears had begun to fall unless the trails cooled his cheek. It had been so long, he had not truly thought about them.

When Dori patted his cheek, it reminded him of his parents. He smiled up to the older dwarf.

What a pair they made.

“Losing them is always hard, isn’t it?” Dori smiled sadly, “It’s good to know that he must have at least been buried. It gives me some closure.”

“What about Nori?”

Dori sighed, “We do not share the same father, Master Baggins. None of us do. I thought you knew?”

Bilbo shook his head, “Well, there were words, of course, but I never really paid attention.”

‘Too busy wrapped up in my own drama’, he thought.

Dori just smiled, “You are kind. No, no, Nori was born on the road. Ori in Ered Luin. They do not share the same memories of Erebor.”

Something dark passed over his features, “Neither should they if I am being honest. My mother, she was a daughter of Durin’s line, you know. But there was much said against her, for she would not love as someone from Durin’s line should. It was quite a scandal.”

“Even in Ered Luin?”

“No, nobody had time to hold grudges among ourselves back then,” sighed Dori, “Those who had a problem with me were mostly due to Nori, not anything else.”

Shaking his head, Dori began to move, “Look at me, going down the memory lane, when there is much to do. I should begin cleaning this place.”

“You intend to live here?”

“Well of course!” Dori exclaimed happily, “This is my home by law, and the Dragon is gone. Ori and I would not want to impose on the King of course!”

As he began to unload the rags form his backpack, Dori continued, “And we have the Ur cousins!”

“What about them?” asked Bilbo, taking teh rag from Dori’s hand. Cleaning a house he could do.

“They have no home here, and until everyone has come and settled, I don’t want the King to worry,” he said, “The Ur’s will have to live with us. It will be a little tight, but oh, Nori hardly stays at home and Bofur and Bifur would probably go down in mines and stay in the village. I have already talked to Lord Frerin and Master Thorin, and they both said it sounded fair that I get working on my own house.”

When did Dori manage to claim such a feat, Bilbo did not know. He did enjoy the mother henning part though- it was almost hobbitish. As Dori claimed the kitchen and bathroom for the intricacies that Bilbo was unaware of, Bilbo took over cleaning the floor and the benches and beds made of stone.

Now, taking care of houses was something he could truly do.

* * *

“We need to find the Arkenstone.”

Thorin watched his brother massage his temples, clearly unhappy with the idea. Why he would think so, Thorin had no idea.

“Nadad, have you slept?”

A warmth spread through his body whenever Frerin called him that. Though he could remember a child saying that who had just begun to lose his lisp, it still was as precious to Thorin.

“Of course I have,” Thorin said, “But that’s not important here. The King’s jewel Frerin!”

“Yes, yes,” Frerin shook his head, loading his plate. The food prepared in the village was prepared at the centre, open to all, and it seemed that everyone partake at least one meal there. It reminded Thorin of Erebor of old, where once a week even the Royal family would come down to dine with their people.

That was before Thror fell to gold sickness.

Thorin shook his head. Not the time to think of such horrid thoughts.

“Frerin,” Thorin lay a hand on his brother’s arm, stopping him. As he saw the eyes similar to his own gaze at him, Thorin said, “It is necessary that we get the stone.”

“Why?” Frerin asked softly, “Why is a rock necessary to claim our kingship, Thorin?”

“It’s not just a rock! You remember the Arkenstone, do you not?”

“The one that shone above Grandfather’s throne? Yes, I remember,” Frerin said, leading Thorin to a distant bench to eat. “But Nadad, that stone could be anywhere. You saw how the treasury has spilt. And it’s not just Erebor’s gold that fills these halls...the Dragon brought his winning from far and wide.”

Lowering his voice, Frerin leaned forward, “And if you speak of moving into the treasury with anyone in this place, they would refuse.”

“What?”

“I told you, the gold is cursed,” Frerin said softly, “Many have gone and never come back. I would not be surprised if you find skeletons among that treasure.”

“My Company will follow me,” said Thorin, “Frerin, the Arkenstone gives us the Divine Right to rule. And it will help us bring forth the different clans of Dwarrows.”

“Why do we need differnet clans for Dwarrows now?”

Thorin said, “Because Thranduil will not take our escape lightly. Thranduil had us captured, and had it not been for Bilbo, we would have been stuck there for long.”

“So you escaped?”

“Of course we did! And Thranduil will come for the jewels of starlight. And we promised the Master gold as well.”

Groaning, Frerin threw his head back, “Well the master is dead, so luck is somewhat on your side. Bard I can give Gold to.”

“Give?”

“Obviously,” Frerin snorted, “Cities don’t get built without money.”

Thorin was displeased to hear that they would be parting from the gold. But he knew his own authority lacked in Erebor, for Frerin had more hold.

“All right,” Frerin said, sighing, “Take your Company to the treasury. But, on a few conditions.”

“It’s yours.”

“You will return back every night. There is much to do, now that the dragon is gone, and while searching if your Company can begin empty the Halls we would be utterly grateful.”

Thorin wanted to protest, but Frerin talked of practical matters.

“Do not forget time while seraching,” said Frerin, “and be aware. If anyone begins to behave differently, nadad, come back at once.”

“Nothing will happen Frerin.”

“I would not be so quick to judge.”

* * *

The City of Dale was in ruins, but many places were habitable. The men and women were many injured, and it pained Fili’s heart to see such destruction, but at least the worst was behind them.

Night had fallen, and a select few had made their way to Dale to check if it was Habitable. The Dwarves had already arrived there, and Reya greeted Bard with a hug. The two disappeared inside to talk of arrangements as Bard looked at them suspiciously.

He sat outside with his brotheand cousin. Despite not knowing each other, Kili and Vorin had easily become friends. Being the younger sons and princes, the two shared tales of a childhood filled with hardships and matters of their mischievousness with much ease. Fili himself had much restriction to talk to this side of his family.

“Are you sure of this, Reya?”

Fili turned to see Bard and Reya come out of the temporrary settlements.

The Dwarf nodded, “They are family, Bard, and Adad trusts them. Furthermore, from what I understand by next spring huge caravans would be making they way to Erebor. Things are changing, so we might as wlel embrace the change.”

In answer, Bard snorted, “that's the heir Princess of Erebor talking. Tell me what you think.”

Letting out a deep sigh, Reya said, “I do not know what to think at this moment. Both Amad and Adad have accepted them, and the dwarves here came willingly, so I will give them that. We need all the help we can get. Your know the Harvest faired better this year, but only by so much. The water will probably be tainted by the Dragon, and now with the Destruction fo Lake Town I truly don’t know what to do.”

“Well, you don’t have to do anything.”

Reya looked apologetically at Bard, “Forgive me, I did not mean to say the problems are bigger for us.”

Bard said nothing in reply to that, “We need to set up the tents. Sigrid will lead the other survivors here tomorrow with Bain. They will reach by evening, I think. Tell Frerin that I am most thankful for all that he is doing, and that we will need the gold too.”

Reya patted Bard's arm, “Of course Bard. I will talk to Adad directly and you will get the share that was promised to the Men.”

Immediately after, Reya began to delegate work to everyone. She herself was struck with Fili, as the dwarf, having been in a position of Crown Prince, knew how to delegate work and work at the same time.

The Dwarves fell into a routine, creating temporary settlements that would last the Men for the good part of the time. Fili and Reya both moved to work on the Town Hall, which was in the best condition and could house most of the Men.

Working beside the Crown Princess of Erebor, Fili realized she was a good leader. She lead with a firm hand, but followed through her words and helped whenever necessary. The talk he had overheard continued to haunt him even later and even what she had said to Bard.

“Master Fili, we need you here.”

Fili was immediately by her side, listening to her plans. Once done, she dispersed everything. As Fili stayed back, she turned to him with a raised eyebrow, “Is something the matter?”

“In a manner of speaking,” said Fili, scratching his beard, “Can we talk?”

“If you can hold conversation while moving your limbs, it would be most appreciated.”

She reminded him a bit of his mother, if Fili was being honest.

As he began to fix the broken roof, Fili said, “I know you are suspicious of us.”

She froze briefly, but did not give any other inidication that she had heard him.

“I do not blame you,” continued Fili, looking at the broken tiles, “If a bunch of distant dwarves came knocing on my door, I would be suspicious as well. But my lady, I am no common urchin. We are of the Line fo Durin, and so are you. We do not want anything more than to live in peace.”

Reya did not say anything for the longets time. Fili thought he had lost, when she finally spoke, “King Thror had a brother, aye?”

“Yes?” Fili wasn’t sure where this was going.

“I hear they claimed the right to the throne, and while King Thror managed to claim Erebor, Lord Gror left for Iron Hills where they stayed in relative peace.”

She bore deep into Fili’s eyes as she spoke next, “When our people escaped from the Dragon, very few found solace in the Iron hills. We tried contacting them, but they refused to do anything with us. A fight between brothers led to a whole kingdom of dwarves to suffer.”

“Cousin Dain is an ally.”

“Now,” Reya said firmly, “tell me, how many Dwarves died on the watch of King Thror when no help came from Iron Jills? Do you know how many of our Dwarrows died when Iron hills refused help?”

“Things changed after the Battle,”

“But at what cost?”

Fili had no answer to that.

Reya huffed, “I do not hate you, Master Fili. My father has yearned for his siblings for long, and if someone took my brother away I would break into Mahal’s halls to demand him to give him back. But the truth is, the world isn’t black or white. There are layers to every story, and those layers are what brings innocent pain.”

Stifling a sigh, Reya turned back to her work, “These men had no reason to be here, yet here they are. I would gladly live in harmony with you, but only if you promise me that there would no question of succession and fight for the Throne of Erebor.”

Fili did not answer, and he did not think Reya expected him to. What she said, indeed, was not untrue.

* * *

The next few days passed in relative peace. The men moved into Dale, setting up camps and preparing for the upcoming winter. The rations were low, and Fili asked Thorin to send Dain a request for supplies.

A raven left the next day with a letter addressed to Lord Dain.

In the mountain, the dwarrows were slow to change. Very few ventured out of the cosy village, but some brave souls began to move. They reclaimed their old homes, staring machinery that had been still for long.

Bilbo spent the day with Dori, which he found he quite enjoyed. They cleaned the Ri houses as Dori told him tales of Nori before his thieving days and of Ori as a child. Soon Bifur joined these expeditions, complaining of being too old to work on anything else according to Dori. Though Bilbo still did not understand the dwarf, it was nice working with him.

The remaining Company of Thorin Oakenshield moved to treasury, hunting for the Arkenstone. The gold piles were huge, and twice they had found skeletons. Both times, it was poor Ori who stumbled upon the bodies and gave himself quite a fright.

Thorin, as promised, came back every night with his people, still having not found the stone. He shared a room with Bilbo, and the Hobbit tried, really, but privacy was less and Bilbo doubted he could talk as openly as he wanted to.

It worried him too, for Thorin was turning disagreeable. Had it not been For Frerin demanding they be back every night and Bilbo’s constant mother henning for food, Thorin would likey spend all his time in the treasury. It was most unbecoming of him and Bilbo worried. He worried deeply.

On the fifth day of the same story, Bilbo was about to take off after Thorin had left with the remaining member of the company when Lady Kiri appeared on his doorstep.

“Frerin wants to talk to ya.”

Bilbo bowed awkwardly, and she just snorted. He had a very strong belief that none of the dwarves of Erebor actually liked him, for the purpose of being an outsider. Furthermore, being Thorin’s “Special friend” clearly did not help the matters.

While Bilbo appreciated Thorin claiming him, in some sense of the word- he really did, make no doubt about it- it made things difficult for Bilbo. And in the long run, it would make things difficult for Thorin too, considering how much support Frerin had as a ruler.

They reached the small room that behaved as a courtroom. It was as big as Bilbo’s own living room in Bag End, with just enough space for the table that Frerin occupied and for two or three dwarves to stand.

When the door opened, Frerin looked up. His face betrayed next to no emotions, but having been married to a Durin, Bilbo knew how to read the undertones. Frerin was worried, and displeased. He just hoped it wasn’t with him.

“Master Baggins,” Frerin said witha pleasant smile, which was fake, “How do you fare of this good day?”

“Veyr well, Master Frerin, thank you,” Bilbo said in the most respectable form he could manage.

“good, good,” Frerin said with a smile, “Now, I have not called you for idle chat.”

Well, at least he got immediately to the point.

Frerin leaned forward, his head in his hand. It was not lost on Bilbo that he had still not been asked to sit down. Almost like a person on trial.

“I will be honest with you Master Baggins. I am not entirely fond of you.”

Bilbo blinked. He had suspected, but did not expect it to be actually said it out loud.

“Well,” Bilbo gave a nervous laugh, “I was not expecting you to put it so bluntly.”

“I see no reason in twisting words wheere there is no need.”

“Isn’t your moniker Silvertongue?”

Frerin snorted, “Just saying courteous words has not made me what I am, let me assure you.”

“All right,” muttered Bilbo, “So you do not like me. Anything else I must know, your Majesty?”

Frerin sat back, a frown on his face, “I am not very pleased with the relationship with my brother, but that is none of my business.”

“Damn right it isn’t,” Bilbo said hastily, anger creeping it to him, “What Thorin and I have is indeed, none of your business.”

“But you are an ally,” Frerin said, ignoring the previous jibe, “And I value my allies.”

Bilbo snorted, “You are basically telling me you hate me and then saying that I am ally?”

“I believe honesty is an important stepping stone to long-lasting relationships, no matter what they are,” said Frerin, “And we have a common person which binds us together.”

“Thorin.”

“Yes.”

Bilbo huffed, “Well, yes. that’s true.”

Leaning forward, Frerin asked, “How long have you known him?”

“Long enough,” Bilbo muttered, not really willing to disclose the intricasies of his relationship with Thorin to his brother, “Why?”

The dwarf hummed, “I am going to ask you something, and I need you to answer it truthfully.”

Bilbo did not answer and he highly doubted he needed to either.

“Is the dwarf who walks in Erebor truly my brother?” Frerin asked, worry creeping up on his face, “Is he the dwarf you have known for your life?”

Bilbo opened his mouth to say ‘yes’, but it ended at very tip of his tongue. His mind wandered to the dwarf who had seen the past few days- a King crazed for gold, on a maddening quest to find the Arkenstone. Someone who could have given up rest and food, not for actual work, but something trivial.

“No,” he said finally, “Thorin is very much more than that. Something plagues his mind right now.”

Frerin let out a terrified gasp, “So the sickness has gotten hold of him.”

“What sickness?” Bilbo frowned.

“The sickness of the Gold,” Frerin answered truthfully.

Bilbo’s eyes widened, No, it could not be. “The one which affected Thror?”

Frerin looked up, clearly surprised at the extent of Bilbo’s knowledge, “I do not remember that, but over the years Dwarves who have ventured near the Dragon’s gold have changed.”

“And you are fine?” Bilbo couldn’t help but ask. It was Frerin who continued to venture to talk to the dragon, after all, “Immune to this, this sickness?”

“Oh,” Frerin said with a sad smile, “but it never truly left me.”

“Pardon?”

“You know what is worse than falling prey to Dragon Sickness, Master Baggins?” Frerin asked seriously, “It’s knowing that you have it. If my brother has indeed fallen, then I must help him.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Mention of death, sort fo graphic mention, but not too graphic
> 
> Also, none of the Durins of Erebor are villanious characters here. there is no villain- well, there is of course Azog, but he isn't here yet. I hope you liked it :)


	22. Worry for your Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WHAAAT! AN UPDATE! HOW!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO PEOPLE! So, in 2000, I was born on the date of 13th November. As per Hobbit tradition, it is my duty to give you all a gift, and this chapter is a gift from my side. Not all chapter updates are gonna be this fast, so enjoy!
> 
> Not really checked, because I am super excited and all. Enjoy!

“No. I forbid it.”

“It’s not your choice.”

“I cannot lose you.”

“You will not.”

“ _Ghivashel.”_

“Dreya. Don’t.”

Bilbo felt like he was intruding, but he could not find anywhere else to look while Frerin and Dreya embraced. They held on to each other for dear life, and when they pulled apart, Frerin wiped away tears from his wife's face. It was almost as if Frerin was going off to battle.

And if his words to were to be believed, he was indeed going off to a battle. Not a battle of arms, but a battle of the mind.

They parted with few whispered words in Khudzul. He did not even wait for Bilbo, but instead moved around. Frerin took long strides to the treasury, Bilbo following behind. Both their faces had a frown, both worried deeply about what was to come next.

When they entered the treasury, it was at the sight of Thorin barking at Balin and Dwalin.

“It’s been six days!” he said, shaking his head, “How could it still be lost?”

“It’s a vast treasury, Thorin!” Balin said, clearly disgruntled, “It could be anywhere. Do you doubt the loyalty of anyone here?”

Thorin did not say anything to that. Before anyone could respond, Frerin shouted, “Nadad!”

Thorin and the Fundin brothers turned to see Frerin and Bilbo walking over the golden coins, coming up to where Thorin stood. Bilbo noticed that the coat Thorin wore was not something he had seen before, and something he hadn’t seen anywhere in the village wear as well.

“Frerin, Bilbo,” Thorin said with a smile that was not exactly a smile, “I thought you two were occupied otherwise.”

“Well yes,” said Frerin, “But seeing you have been labouring here for days I thought it important that I come help at least.”

“I thought said you wouldn’t.”

“No, I said none of the people would. I was just occupied otherwise.”

Thorin grunted but said nothing. Frerin looked down, at the gleaming gold. “it’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

That elicited a smile from Thorin, “Yes. The Gold-hoard of Thror. Truly magnificent.”

As Frerin nodded and led Thorin somewhere, Dwalin grunted angrily and left. Balin shook his head and went away. He looked terribly upset. Bilbo followed him to a side room, which could once have been a records room.

There were tears in the older dwarf’s eyes as he spoke to Bilbo, “Dragon-sickness. I’ve seen it before. That look. That terrible need. It’s a fierce and jealous love, Bilbo. It drove his grandfather mad.”

“Is it truly that bad?” whispered Bilbo, looking around, “He just looked, tired. And irritated. A bit different yes, but even Frerin said it was the sickness,”

Balin sighed, shaking his head, “Of course the lad would know. You can’t live in a mountain without knowing it’s darkest secrets.”

“He said he had it too.”

Balin looked up, terrified. Bilbo continued, “And he said he knew it. I...Balin, what are we to do?”

“The stone, is nowhere to be found,” said Balin, “We have searched and searched. For all we know, the dragon ate it up.”

Bilbo knew that wasn’t true- he had seen the stone.

“I will ask you this, Bilbo,” said Balin, “Thorin trusts you. He cares for you. Take him away, even for a little while. See, see if there is something we can do. See if he can get better.”

“Of course he can get better!” Bilbo said, unbelieving, “it’s Thorin. It’s just a roadblock, right? Yes, Balin?”

The old dwarf said nothing, merely patting the Hobbit on his shoulder and moving out, wiping away his tears.

Bilbo stood still. Yes, Thorin was different. He has a tad bit irritable, a little confused, but that was expected. Both Frerin and Balin insisting it being a sickness was...wrong. Worrying.

“Bilbo!”

Thorin voice brought the Hobbit out of his thoughts. Bilbo looked up and plastered a smile as he saw Thorin come to him. His face held a tenderness that Bilbo had not seen in a while, so he dwelled in it.

“Come, I need to show you something.”

Thorin led Bilbo away from the treasury, deeper and higher into the mountain on the other side from where they were. Bilbo noticed that the walls got even smoother, and soon he could see wood beams, half-eaten half-burnt lining the corridors. There were gold and silver inlaid and if Bilbo could just remove the cobwebs, it would look beautiful.

The corridor ran long, many doors on either side. They went on and on, and as Bilbo saw the paintings, he realized that they were in the Royal part of the mountain.

Just as the realization dawned on him, Thorin pulled open the door to his right. To Bilbo’s utter delight, there was a small window, still intact, which had sunlight streaming down inside.

“Dwarves do not need the sun,” said Thorin, walking in, “But I could not wake unless the sun came on my face. It should have been an indication.”

“Wait,” said Bilbo, “this is your room?”

At Thorin’s smile, Bilbo felt happiness bubble within him. He was inside Thorin’s childhood room. Oh dear Yavannah.

There was a huge bed in front of him, made for a family if Bilbo was being honest. On the left was a couch, above which was a bookshelf. Bilbo immediately leapt there, looking at books. They were not in a pristine condition, but with careful handling, they would be readable once more.

As Bilbo pulled books after books, he felt despair. They were all in Khudzul.

“There should be Westron translations too,” said Thorin, looking at Bilbo’s dejected face, “That’s how I learnt how to read.”

Bilbo's face immediately lit up, “This is amazing!”

“Not as amazing as what I am to show you.”

As Thorin began to pull Bilbo away, Bilbo gently left the book and pouted, “But Thorin...books...”

Ignoring Bilbo’s sad pleas, Thorin led him to the other side of the room, where a table sat along with his weapons. But instead of there, Thorin pushed the wall beside to reveal what could only be described as a walk-in closet.

“Oh, my.”

Thorin walked in the small closet, pulling open some drawers, made of stone and wood, to reveal a key.

“This is for you,” Thorin said softly, handing over the key to Bilbo.

“What is this, the key to your heart?” joked Bilbo, examining the silver key.

“Essentially.”

The sincerity in thorin's voice took Bilbo off guard, Before he could question further, Thorin bent down and pulled open an old ornate box, inlaid with jewels and gold. He took it out to the bed and Bilbo followed.

“My Grandfather made this box for me, right after my birth,” said Thorin, “It was a treasured gift. Look at the gold, Bilbo, the intricate patterns. Look at the jewels. Don’t they shine?”

They were certainly shiny.

Thorin gingerly took the key from Bilbo and opened the lock. As the chest fell open, it revealed clothes.

Unable to hold back a gasp, Bilbo pulled out a small tunic.

“Is this...”

“Aye.” Thorin said with a smile.

“Baby Thorin’s clothes,” whispered Bilbo in awe, unnamed happiness bubbling up in his heart, “I am holding baby Thorin’s clothes. Oh, Eru!”

Thorin chuckled as Bilbo carefully lay down the shirt and pulled out a wooden soldier toy.

“Your first toy?” Bilbo asked softly, knowing well enough the significance of it.

“My Adad made it for me,” said Thorin, “and look, there? that’s my Amad’s ring. I once nicked it away.”

Bilbo grinned at hearing young Thorin’s words. He could imagine a young Thorin taking away the gold ring from his mother's dresser, or perhaps even her fingers. He certainly did not know if younger Thorin was mischievous, or not. There was so much he did not know. 

“Look at the gold," Thorin's words pulled Bilbo out of his thoughts, "Look at the shine. Oh, _ghivashel_ , I will adorn you with all the jewels in Erebor.”

Bilbo snorted, “I would look far too stuffy.”

“You would look perfect," Thorin pressed a kiss on Bilbo's temple and smiled at him, "Like a Consort, as you should be.”

Bilbo opened his mouth to tell Thorin that Frerin would definitely have something to say against that, but then shut it promptly. Leaning forward, he smiled and put a hand on Thorin’s cheek as the dwarf continued, “I would lay you with the best and finest. All the gold, the treasure, it’s all for us. Just us.”

There was something that different in the way Thorin spoke. Something that Bilbo could not truly pinpoint.

“Thorin,”

“Hmm?” Thorin opened his eyes.

“You know what I really desire right now?”

Thorin raised an eyebrow, “I am not laying with you on this dirty bed.”

“Oh, for Yavannah’s sake!” Bilbo hit Thorin’s arms, eliciting a laugh from him, “I was not suggesting anything of that sort.”

“Then what do you desire, _Ghivashel_?”

“The Baggins’ pie,” he muttered, “I know rations are low and winter is going to be hard, but I would really really like that pie.”

Thorin smiled, kissing Bilbo’s knuckles, “I will have the best of cuisine laid down in front of you if you desire so, Bilbo. Whatever you want.”

Bilbo smiled, “Nothing more, just the pie.”

“You should taste the exquisite dinner of the Dwarves," Thorin muttered, lost in hsi own head, "All the food, in the golden plates and wine in shining goblets. You would have pies better than the one you desire, tastes long lost.”

As Thorin touched to kiss Bilbo lightly on his neck, Bilbo let in a shuddering breath. Thorin clearly thought of it as a signal to ravish him, but tears prickled Bilbo’s eyes as Thorin’s words continued to churn in Bilbo’s mind.

_You would have better pies_

* * *

There was discontent among the men. They had food and clothes all right, but they needed money. They needed things to buy, to construct. The economy did not work just like that.

Fili followed Reya as she tried to calm down the men, but Bard was worried too.

“Thorin Oakenshield promised us gold,” he said, looking pointedly at Fili, “And even if I were to ignore his words, we still need compensation for what happened. It’s not greed, Reya, but practicality.”

“I know it’s not greed, Bard,” Reya said slowly, “Vorin has gone to talk. He will be coming back and I assure you there will be some compensation.”

The talk ended there, and Bard left to oversee the things happening in the city. Reya sighed, dropping her head in her hands. Fili approached her.

“Whatever is the matter?”

She looked up, a bit hesitant. Nevertheless, she told him.

“I sent word to Adad for the money two days ago. He should have sent at least one chest by yesterday.”

Fili frowned, “Do you think he could have forgotten?”

Reya shook her head, “Adad doesn’t forget. There is something amiss. That’s why I sent Vorin.”

“Do you think we should go back and check on them?” Fili asked sincerely.

“We will," Reya nodde,d looking around, "Once the last of the homes are done. What progress have we made?”

Fili straightened, “Three more families to settle. Everyone else has found shelter for the winter.

“That’s good,” Reya smiled, “Thank you, cousin. It seems I did, after all, underestimate you.”

Fili couldn’t help but grin cheekily at that, “We have lived in no luxury, my lady. Yes, we did not have a Dragon living over us, but we had greedy men and it mostly the same.”

To that, Reya chuckled. “That I will agree with. The Master was a dragon, through and through. it’s only fair that both he and Smaug lay in together.”

Fili nodded. As they moved outward, they saw Vorin coming back with another cart. But to Fili’s surprise, Bilbo was with him.

The cart came thudering down the broken pavement fo Dale. Bilbo looked uncomfortable, his face scrunched up. But the moment his eyes landed on Fili, a rleief spread through his features. They came to a stop barely a few steps from Reya and Fili. 

As Vorin stepped down, Reya asked excitedly, “Is this the compensation?”

Vorin frowned, “Yes. But it’s not gold.”

At Reya's confused frown, Vorin pulled open a chest to reveal various trinkets that were stuffed inside the village treasury. They ranged from rings to jewels, to golden scraps of armoury. 

“That’s...” Reya shook her head, “We have a whole treasury to our use. Why are we using the emergency fund?”

“ _Amad_ sent it,” told Vorin, “on _Adad’_ s orders. Something’s amiss, _namad._ I do not know what.”

Reya frowned. As Fili looked at them, opening his mouth in question, Bilbo cleared his throat.

“Hello," He said pleasantly, "I am here to cook for everyone. Fili, can you please show me the kitchen? Also, if you would be kind enough to give him to us, Lady Reya, I would like Kili to work with me.”

Reya half-heartedly waved her hand, too busy examining the cart sent by Lady Dreya. Bilbo all but pulled Fili away. 

Fili frowned, looking at the Hobbit in concern, “What’s wrong?”

“We need to get Kili.”

The two found the younger Prince playing with a few children. He grinned at seeing Bilbo, but looking at their troubled expression, he followed them without a question.

The kitchen was secluded, thankfully, and the women who cooked did so in other places. Bilbo quickly pushed the Princes inside and pulled the drape that worked as a divider. Once Bilbo had made sure no one was listening, he turned to Fili and Kili.

“All right, we need to talk.”

The brothers exchanged a worried glance.

“What’s the matter, Bilbo?” Kili asked, frowning.

Bilbo shuddered, shaking his head and muttering to himself, “I know the answer to this question, but I need you to tell me. What is Thorin’s craft?”

Fili blinked, “Um, he is a blacksmith by craft. He works with metals.”

He wasn't sure what Bilbo was trying to get out of them. A craft was an open topic for dwarves, they could share it openly with anyone. Considering how long Bilbo and Thorin had been together, Bilbo should not be having second doubts about it.

“Right?” Bilbo said, hurriedly, and there was a desperation in Bilbo's voice, “And are blacksmiths particularly enamoured by gold? Or, or jewels?”

Kili frowned, “Not that I have heard of.”

“All dwarves treasure gold and precious stones,” explained Fili, scratching his beard, “But enamoured? Only jewellers and miners. Why?”

Bilbo shut his eyes, breathing heavily. Once he had gotten it under control, he looked at them with deep worry, “What do the two of you know of gold sickness?”

Someone might as well have declared that the King of Erebor had died. It wasn't an unknown topic, but a taboo, talked about in hushed whispers behind closed doors.

“Nothing technically,” Kili said slowly, looking at Fili in worry, “Fili knows some of it.”

“Whatever I know Kili knows,” Fili said firmly, shaking his head, “and we know more than what was told to us.”

“It’s almost a taboo, you see,” Kili explained, “Only Thorin, Balin and Oin spoke of it. _Amad_ got roped into the discussion later from what we know, and sometimes Dwalin and Gloin, but that’s it. Even the lords were not very privy to this information.”

Bilbo nodded, hurried yet somehwat comforted, “But you two know nevertheless? Know what it does?”

“Amad warned us, to not fall for its trap. To be careful.” Fili said, recounting teh last words Dis had spoken to the boys.

“Well, she was right,” said Bilbo, hands on his hops, “Are either of you miners by craft?”

Fili nodded, “Well, I am still undecided between mining and blacksmith, but that’s it. Kili’s a warrior. Why, Bilbo, what’s wrong?”

Bilbo took a depe bretah, shaking his head. It was as if he was trying to gather his thoughts, piece them together and get them working. When he looked at Fili and Kili, his eyes were brimming with tears. “Thorin’s gold sick.”

The brother's eyes widened. Kili cluctched on to Fili's arms as the golden prince gasped. It had been a possibility, always, yes, but never the truth. Mahal, he had never thought...

“What?” came a squeak from Fili. It was all that he could manage.

“But, but he was always so insistent!” 

“Thorin hated all that Thror stood for.”

“He made sure he wasn’t his grandfather!” Kili almost cried out.

“Quiet!” hissed Bilbo, looking around in worry. once no movement caught his eyes, Bilbo rubbed his temples, “I know, all right? I know that. Thorin, he hated that, yes. But right now, the dwarf in that mountain? That’s not the Thorin Oakenshield you and I know. It’s someone else. And by the looks of it, Frerin has fallen into that trap too. Or was always in it. Yavannah, I don’t know.”

Both Fili and Kili were frozen. Bilbo walked up to them, holding them by their arms, “Stay away from the mountain. It’s sick. It will make you sick. Promise me you two will be careful.”

“We will have to go back,” whispered Kili, almost liek a scared child.

“Then you will stay away from the treasury, no matter what Thorin says.," Bilbo said firmly, "Do you understand?”

“But....how...”

“He is saying things Thorin would never say," Bilbo explained, slowly running his hands up and down their arms. It was oothing, bt worrying too, "His mind is occupied by only gold and that stone.”

Fili frowned. “They still haven’t found it.”

Bilbo shook his head. “Promsie me, you two will be careful.”

Kili immediately lay an arm on Bilbo's shoulder, looking at him with every ounce of seriousness he could gather, “Of course, _idad._ We promsie.”

“Yes, of course," FIli nodded, before letting out a ddep sigh, "Mahal, this is wrong.”

Before Bilbo could say anything else, the door creaked. The three immediately setpped apart, trying to look uncospicious. It was Vorin who stepped in, holding a basket of fish.

“I got you fish, Master Baggins,” he said happily, “The onions and potatoes should be right about there.”

“Thank you, Master Vorin,” Bilbo said with a tired smile.

“How are you feeling now?” asked Vorin, putting down the smelly basket on a rack, “ _Amad_ said the mountain was making you sick.”

“You are sick?” Kili immediately asked, turning to Bilbo in question. Fili had the same face, a bit hurt too, that Bilbo would not tell him.

Bilbo waved away the concern immediately, “It’s just the weather. Winters and I...we don’t get along very well. Plus, there is next to no sun in the mountain. I am a child of ground, not of stone.”

“Do you need something?” Fili asked.

“Just needed to get out, and now here I am" whispered bilbo, a bit sadly. But he shook hsi head, plastering a smiel on his face and rubbing his hands excitedly, "All right, I will take care of the fish, because the way you two are scrunching up your noses you two hate the smell. Kili, chop the onions, Fili, get the water boiling, master Vorin, would you help?”

“Why, that’s why I am here!”

“Great, start by peeling the potatoes.”

* * *

That night, the men fo Dale had a taste of Hobbit cooking. It was filing and even tasty. Many thanked the Hobbit and as the sun began to go down, everyone got ready to rest.

That was when the biggest horse anybody had ever seen barraged into the city of Dale.

“Move aside! Get a healer! I have a sick dwarf with me!”

It was Gandalf, and Bilbo, Fili and Kili immediately ran to him.

“Gandalf!” Bilbo said excitedly, but his excitement dimmed as he saw the battle marks on Gandalf's face, “Oh dear, what happened?”

“Much has happened, Bilbo Baggins,” he huffed, “Fili, Kili, is Oin here? I need a healer.”

“Who is that?” Kili asked, pointing at the much too thin Dwarf by Gandalf’s side.

It was an old Dwarf, with tattoos on his forehead and arms, and thin hair with no beads. There was something familiar about the way he looked, and rather disheartening.

Gandalf pulled the older dwarf off teh horse and into his arms, almost as if protecting him from an unknown threat, “This, Kili, is Thrain, son fo Thror, father of Thorin and Dis. And he needs a healer right now!”

Bilbo blinked. That was...Thorin’s father...

Before he could process any other information, Bilbo fainted.

* * *

Consciousness was an effort that Bilbo was not willing to get to. He had had a nice dream, full of cherries and blueberries and chicken and there were faunts. Of course, he could not make sense of the dream very well, but it was the feeling that counted.

However, sleep eluded him, and whispers were going around him. Slowly opening his eyes, Bilbo realized that there were no concerned whispers about him at all.

Well then, wasn’t that a lovely thought?

Looking around, Bilbo found the four heirs of the Throne of Erebor peeping over the doorway to where they were. In fact, is he looked around, he realized he was in a man’s house- the ceiling was too high, the bed was too big and the dwarves looked like children in the doorway.

Groaning, Bilbo got up and went to the gaggle of children.

“What exactly-”

Before he could finish his sentence, four voices shushed him in synchronization. Fili was the one who turned, and there was relief featuring his face.

“Oh thank Mahal you are awake,” he said, grabbing Bilbo and pushing him the front, his voice lower, “This is utter madness.”

Bilbo huffed, “Perhaps, if I knew what I am supposed to be looking for I would help more?”

Kili pointed at the bed in the other room. The bed was crawling with dwarves, but two of them Bilbo recognized. Balin and Oin. The patient, however, now that was someone new.

“According to the reports,” Reya whispered, “that’s our Grandfather.”

Bilbo blinked. The events of the day came rushing back to him. Gandalf coming into the city of Dale carrying an unconscious, weak dwarf...

The Dwarf on the bed certainly looked like Thorin. He even shared some fo Frerin’s features, and Bilbo could make teh familial resemblance.

Oh, dear. That was his father-in-law.

“But that’s not possible!” hissed Kili, “ _Amad_ said that he died in the battle of Azanulbizar.”

“We thought so about Master Thorin too,” Vorin pointed out.

“That’s different,” Fili shispered, looking at everyone else, “There was a chance of miscommunication there. Distance, people. How do you explain this?”

“Well,” Bilbo finally spoke up, “Thorin has always been insistent of the fact that his father is alive, isn’t he?”

That led Fili and Kili to exchange a knowing glance.

“that’s...true,” Kili said gingerly, “But Balin always said that it was the grief talking.”

“Balin says a lot of things Kee,” Fili reminded him, “Just because he is the advisor doesn’t mean he is always right. Why, he prefers ginger cookies to sugar cookies.”

“That’s true brother, that’s true.”

“You two are impossible,” muttered Reya, peeping around the Durin Princes, “We are currently faced with a possible King of Erebor.”

Now Fili got irritated, “Is that all you think about? The Throne fo Erebor?”

“I am the Crown Heir, it is my duty.”

“Well, so am I.”

“And you have done such a good job.”

“Children,” Bilbo said sternly, earning shocked and guilty looks from both Reya and Fili. Well, it was nice to know that he could at least be stern. “Lady Reya, it does not matter who sits on the throne currently. It is a rebuilding kingdom, is it not?”

“Well, yes-”

“And there’s the matter of orcs and elves.” mumbled Kili.

Bilbo blanched, “orcs and elves? What about orcs and elves?”

“Oh, you didn’t hear?”

“No?”

The four dwarrows shared a glance, before Fili said, “The ranks of Thranduil came to Dale not long ago, with cartload full of rations. It was only intelligent of Bard to accept it.”

Reya huffed, “Doesn’t mean I can’t blame him. Thranduil is asking for his gems, he asked me and Fili-”

“Fili and I,” Bilbo corrected

“-and has all but ordered to talk to the King of Erebor,” she finished, ignoring Bilbo.

Vorin sniffed, “Furthermore, the wizard says that an army of Orcs is making their way to Erebor. We have two days at most, and we need to prepare for war.”

“But with Bard’s unhappiness over the loss of economic compensation and Thranduil’s desire for the white gems of starlight, there is going to be a much different battle at hand,” finished Kili.

As everyone slowly turned to stare at him, he turned defensive, “What? I am smart too!”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEHEHE, Am I evil?


	23. Watch the cogs turn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your wishes! I hope you enjoy this chapter! It probably needs a second look, but well, I have two submission day after tomorrow, and I am supposed to be paying attention to class rn. Sooooooooo......you know what? Enjoy!

The gold clinked under the weight of dwarves. The coins were pulled in mounds, but there were never meant to be holding the mass of dwarves. They were meant to exchange, live in closed quarters, dwarves that never opened and shared among traders.

But Thorin did not want to trade or exchange or share the gold coins. The mound was beautiful, glimmering under the light of the torches. His Company worked hard to part through the coins and search for the Arkenstone. Thorin needed to protect the coins. For himself, for his family, for his nephews, for his sister, for his husband...

For his brother.

Thorin pulled on the old thread inside his grandfather’s clothes. It was truly exquisite, his grandfather’s tastes. Even if he made quite a few mistakes when it came to other things, there was no doubt that Thror had an eye for refined things. Thorin, on the other hand, always focused on practicality.

But even he could appreciate a good taste.

Running his hand on the soft fur, Thorin frowned. There was a clinking of coins beside him. He had already searched the area- his Company should be working in the other part of the treasury.

He turned at once, His hands ready to attack.

“At ease, _nadad_. It is only me.”

Thorin pulled down his hand, but he did not ease. There was...something off about Frerin. The way he looked at gold was too similar to the way that Thror used to look at his treasure. He had mentioned the gold sickness- it couldn’t have hurt him, could it?

“What are you doing here?” demanded Thorin, looking over Frerin’s shoulder, “I thought you were searching there.”

Frerin shrugged, “I was, and now I am done. Can’t I want to spend some time with long lost brother?”

That elicited a smile from Thorin. He grabbed Frerin’s neck, careful of the burnt scars and pulled him in a sort of shoulder lock. Both laughed, and for a moment Thorin could pretend they were pebblings, running from the guards who were to take them back to their lessons.

To think once Thorin and Frerin both had shrunk off their duties.

“I am anything but lost,” Thorin growled playfully, pulling Frerin close, “If anyone it has been you who is lost. I have been long in this mountain, and you have been busy with work.”

Frerin sighed dramatically, “You remember what Fundin used to say? A Durin-”

“-is never without work,” Thorin finished with a smile. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Dwalin smiling, almost as if a weight was being lifted from his shoulders. Unwilling to dwell on it, Thorin pulled Frerin along, walking deeper into the treasury.

“Tell me _Nadadith,_ how have you been faring? There is much that we ought to learn about each other.”

“And we will,” said Frerin, “But I need you to tell me about Dis.”

“Dis?”

“The last I saw her she was no bigger than this,” Frerin put his hand to his waist, “Considering she is Amad to two brave princes, she must have grown a bit.”

Thorin laughed, “Of course she has grown.”

Frerin laughed too but bit the side of his lips, looking anywhere but the glimmering gold under his feet.

“Does she even remember me?”

His voice was very soft. Had the halls been filled with people, nobody would have heard Frerin's murmurings. Thorin stalled, coming face to face with Frerin. He could not imagine not remembering his brother. Shaking his head, he said, “Of course she does. We all remembered.”

“Well," Frerin shrugged carelessly, "I wouldn’t blame if you forgot-”

“Frerin,” Thorin said sternly, cutting Frerin’s words halfway. Smiling gently, he cupped the face where the burnt tissue lay. Frerin shuddered slightly as Thorin said, “We could never forget you. You have always been our brother and you always will be.”

As Frerin smiled, Thorin playfully added, “In any case, it was you who slipped Dis sweets when she ought not to have eaten any. I think that sort of love is hard to forget.”

Frerin laughed, and so did Thorin. And for one glorious moment, gold was the last thing on their minds.

* * *

The joy that encompassed Thorin at the moment was something he could not truly describe. It was fire searing through his veins. Years of failure, of words against him, of thoughts discarded in the name of grief, all coming down to nought.

When the dwarf from Erebor had burst into the village, late at dinner time the day before, claiming that a wizard had come with a dwarf, Thorin’s mind had immediately gone to the fact that Gandalf had somehow brought Dis. He knew not why or how, but that was all he could think of.

However, as an old member of the Company and a Healer was asked for by Gandalf, it became clear that the matter in hand was much different. It was Balin who decided to go, along with Oin and a handful of medics from the Dwarves of Erebor. Frerin had asked Thorin what it was about- he had no answer to give.

Sleep eluded him that night, and Thorin found himself walking back to the halls of the treasury. Not that he realized it, but Arkenstone grew heavy on his head. Frerin had followed, and the two spoke but began to search when no words were being exchanged. It warmed Thorin’s heart, how even after years of separation, he and Frerin could work in sync.

It was far too early in the morning when even the sun had not come up, that the sound of hooves echoed in the halls. Both Frerin and Thorin put their hands over their weapons and all but ran out, ready to defend their kingdom alone if it came to that.

To their surprise, it was the group of Dwarrows that had gone off to Dale. Along with them were the dwarves who left the day before, Bilbo, Gandalf and...

The sword dropped from his hand. Thorin could hear the moment the blade made contact with the stone. The torches that lit around the entryway looked like the fire from the forge of Mahal, glimmering and shining. Thorin could not stop looking at the figure- old, weak, thin, hair scarce.

It was his Adad.

The sound that escaped his throat would have been animalistic, for everyone took a step back. Everyone except him, who looked up, recognition flashing through his eyes.

“Thorin?”

It had been years since he last heard that voice. Oh, it had been years. His Amad would be the one to sing him to sleep, but it was his Adad who taught him everything in his life. Of races, of people, of administration, of the military. Even when on road, it was he who handled the kingship title while his grandfather rusted in the gold madness. He taught Thorin how to move on.

But he could never move on from him. Never.

He ran like a child, uncaring of what other thought and dropped into his Adad’s embrace.

Thorin could feel his father’s ribs. He could feel the torment his father must have gone through. All those years, when he could have been in the safety of the Dwarven homes when he could have ruled, when he could have watched his family grow...

“ _Inudoy_ ,” His hand slipped over Thorin’s hair, “Look at you. Oh, how have you grown!”

Thorin sobbed, clutching on to his father’s clothes. What was left of it.

Slowly pulling back, Thorin realized he must be freezing. The cold air was rushing inside the mountain.

He did not think twice before pulling off the coat he wore- the coat that belonged to his grandfather once. He rested it over his father’s shoulder and the older dwarf pulled it tighter around him.

“You are alive,” Thorin finally breathed out, ignoring the burning eyes and his hoarse voice.

His Adad huffed, placing his wrinkled hand on Thorin’s cheek, “The orcs could try. They would never win.”

Thorin closed his eyes. The years of torture. All that he could have spared his father from if only he knew.

“Who’s...that?”

Thorin followed his father’s line of sight to deeper into the mountain. There stood Frerin, frozen in spot, his eyes wide.

His Adad would not know. For him, and everyone else, Frerin had died in the Dragon fire. And Frerin...what did he remember? It was Thorin who spent ages with Adad, while Frerin and Dis clutched to their Amad. In the later years of Thror’s reign, Thrain and Thorin were left picking up the pieces, and the rest of the family left behind.

Thorin slowly walked over to Frerin, while he remained still. He gently grabbed his hands and pulled him to Thrain. Frerin seemed to protest, without saying a word. But for the moment, their eyes met, and Thorin nodded with a soft smile. Frerin let himself sink under Thorin’s hold and walked over to where Thrain stood.

The older dwarf continued to look at him in confusion, but Thorin could not bear it. It was a moment of reconciliation, and they deserved it.

“Adad,” Thorin whispered, and didn’t it feel unreal “It’s your son. Look at him how he has grown. A king of Erebor.”

Recognition was slow to come, and it was crowded with confusion. But it did come, when Thrain’s shaking hands landed on Frerin’s face.

“Frerin?”

Frerin choked, grabbing his Adad’s shoulders and bringing their foreheads close.

As Thorin clutched both their shoulders, he closed his eyes and sent a prayer to Mahal. To thank him, for giving this another chance.

* * *

Bilbo did not even wait for Dori to say anything before he barged into the house and plopped down on the rug in the living room.

“Oh dear,” Dori said kindly, “Are you all right?”

“Perfectly spectacular,” Bilbo sniffed.

Bifur, who was helping Dori move certain items around, barked something in khudzul. Dori nodded and turned to Bilbo.

“Bifur is asking if that was sarcasm.”

Bilbo glared at Bifur, who just huffed. Dori patted Bilbo and said, “I understand your position, dear. No one wants to face their’s lovers family. Take it from me! Why during my escapades-”

Whatever Dori was to say Bifur shut him up, and Bilbo was thoroughly glad for that. He had really begun to like Dori, and the last thing he wanted to do was learn fo his “escapades”.

Shuddering, Bilbo picked up a rag and got cleaning whatever area was left. There was not much to do, but Bilbo’s head was revolting.

First, there was Frerin, who had made it clear that he did not like Bilbo. Bilbo was not overly fond of the dwarf either if he was being honest, but he had no reason to hate him except mutual distaste.

Then, there was Thorin. From what little he had seen of his husband, he looked well. Happy, yes, and anybody would be at meeting their long lost family members. But Bilbo could not push out the words shared in his rooms. It felt like a distant memory, but it was there. And even as they had parted, he could see some hint of possessiveness creeping up.

And finally, there was Thrain. If he was anything like either of his sons, Bilbo was sure he was going to butt heads with him. Not that he wanted to, but he just had a bad track record with Durins meeting first time. Why, the first time he had met Thorin he had ended up irritating him.

Bilbo felt a small smile creep up to him. It felt like another lifetime. All those years ago, when he had first met Thorin. Barely having reached his majority faced with a cocky dwarf- nobody could have thought.

A sharp click brought Bilbo out of his thoughts. He blinked, looking around in confusion, before realizing he was in Dori’s house. In front of him stood Dori, a frown etched on his face.

“Are you all right Bilbo?”

“hmm?” Bilbo blinked again, before mentally smacking himself, “Oh yes. Just, lost in thoughts.”

Dori smiled understandingly, “I was just serving out tea. Would you be interested?”

If there was something Bilbo had come to appreciate about the older dwarf, it was his dedication towards mealtimes and snacks. A cup of tea sounded heavenly.

But fate was working against them, for as soon as Dori handed Bilbo his cup of tea, a soldier from Frerin’s ranks came knocking on their door.

“yes, Master Dwarf?” Dori asked in Westron.

“His majesty has asked for all Dwarves of the mountain to report to the main entrance. As soon as possible.”

Dori, Bifur and Bilbo shared a quizzical glance. Bilbo looked at his tea mournfully but agreed to leave it in favour of following his friends to the main entrance.

There, it was to his immense surprise, to find dwarves working on barricading the mountain. Dori and Bifur were immediately ushered away by their family members, leaving Bilbo alone, blinking at the work in progress.

The wall was halfway done, but men could see from over the wall if they tried. He had no idea how high Dwarves were reaching for, but if they were trying for the whole height, it was an ambitious project.

Which could explain the amount fo dwarves.

“Bilbo!”

Fili’s voice was a God sent. Bilbo immediately hurried to where Fili stood at a corner, overseeing the work.

“What exactly is happening here?” Bilbo asked.

Fili sighed, “Much more than we expected. Not soon after... _he_...came, both Thorin and Frerin issued that the mountain needs to be barricaded. I am at loss for why, and so is Reya.”

“Can you ass them?”

“If we find them, that is.”

* * *

“Orcs! More than you or I could ever imagine, Thorin! More than Azanulbizar! We need to protect Erebor!”

Not just Orcs, but Men and Elves too. Thorin was never fine with parting with the treasure to pay the men, yet Frerin had insisted that they give aid to the people of Lake-Town. Now, they were betrayed by their allies. The Bowman, Bard, had accepted Thranduil's offer for food. Frerin looked positively aghast at the news, especially coming from Balin. But he had put himself up, unwilling to bow down either. There was much they needed to protect Erebor from, and Thorin had a suspicion that even from someone within the mountain.

The low huffs brought Thorin out of his thoughts. He turned to see Gandalf lay a calming hand on Thrain’s shoulder, “Peace, my friend. Your son.. _s_ , are working on it, are they not?”

Frerin nodded, looking suspiciously at Gandalf. Thorin had to laugh a bit at that- anyone who knew or did not know Gandalf had a right to be suspicious. Why, he himself had questions as to where the old wizard had disappeared when they needed him. 

“We are already on it, _Adad,"_ Frerin said, laying a hand over his father's shoulder, "We will be well protected by nightfall.”

Tharin immediately reached out for Frerin’s hand. He had been holding someone since the moment he had come inside his old rooms as if trying to assure himself that they were indeed there.

“You weren’t there at Azanulbizar,” he said, not unkindly, “I am glad you weren’t, my boy. It was a nightmare. Yes, a nightmare, and it isn’t ending.”

Thorin sat down beside Thrain, smiling gently, “Worry not _Adad,_ our Dwarves are skilled workers. As Frerin said, we will be done by nightfall.”

Thrain nodded, though he did not look convinced. There was something crazed in the way he behaved, but no one could blame him. Being captured, living under the influence of dark power, the fact that he survived was a miracle.

Gandalf smiled at Thorin, nodding, “I am glad to see the quest succeeded.”

Thorin smiled back, though it took all his patience to hold back his tongue. On one hand, Thorin was utterly grateful. Had Gandalf not followed the trail he did, Thorin would never learn of his father's fate or even meet him. Thrain would have been lost for years to come and perhaps even die surrounded by darkness. On the other hand, they really could have used the wizard during the realm of Elves and Men. So much time could have been spared, so much more could have been done.

Standing up, Gandalf bowed to Frerin, Dreya and Balin. With a curt nod, he picked up his staff and huffed, “Well then, I must get going.”

Balin had the most peculiar frown on his face, and Thorin knew he felt as wronged as Thorin did. “Where to, Gandalf?”

“If the armies of orcs are coming, the men and Elves need to be ready.”

Unable to help himself, Thorin gave out a bitter laugh, “They will offer no help.”

Gandalf turned to him, a very peculiar expression on his face. “Even then I must try, Thorin Oakenshield. Prepare your armies till then.”

“We will,” said Thorin, “But you ought to wait until evening." With a smile, Thorin turned to his father, "The King fo Erebor has returned. Ther ought to be a feast. What do you say Frerin?”

Frerin had no complaints, as a childlike smile spread on his face, “Of course. It goes unsaid. Wait, Wizard, and we shall provide you with a night to remember.”

As Thrain huffed and held on to his sons, and the Durins shared a happy smile, away from their line of sight, Balin, Dreya and Gandalf shared a worried glance. 

* * *

Honestly, Bilbo had tried. He had tried to pull the trolleys and pass the smaller rocks over to the Dwarrows, but he was small, and not strong enough. The Dwarrows said something in Khudzul, and by the way Fili had barked they had not been saying anything kind. But Bilbo was tired- it was hard enough to fit with Hobbits, and trying to fit in with Dwarves looked even worse. 

"This is not the place for someone like you," Lady Kiri said roughly to him, passing a stone to Dwalin, "I think you ought to find better work for your time."

There was no work for him. The Kitchen would not take him in, the Company was all busy in the barricading and Bilbo had no idea what to do. He had enjoyed the time he had in Dale, no matter how small it was. But with a potential war on the horizon, he could not exactly go back there.

It was Vorin who had smiled gently at Bilbo, and lead him to a smaller room which looked like a records room.

"This place needs cleaning," he explained, "and none of the Dwarves is actually willing to do it. _Adad_ and _Amad_ are insistent that we look at old records before talking about trading."

Bilbo couldn't help but ask, "Is that still happening? With the battle and all?"

That gave Vorin a pause. "I mean...we will have to. Eventually."

There was no denying that Vorin was just trying for Bilbo to feel useful. He smiled gratefully at the younger dwarf. As soon as he left, Bilbo grabbed the rags and let his hands do the work, much lie how he had with Dori in his house.

He had managed to do one shelf when Kili came barreling him, out of breath. Bilbo frowned at him and led Kili to sit on one of the cleaned chairs.

"Now, why are you out of breath?"

Kili took a deep breath, before turning to Bilbo with a worried look, "A few things happened while you were here."

"And those include?"

"Well," Kili scratched his head, "First of all there is a feast, in the early evening. But before that, Balin has asked us for all a meeting. Fili was insistent that you be there as well. He will fetch you when it is time. And, and...umm...I have forgotten the rest."

Unable to help himself, Bilbo smiled and ran a hand through Kili's unruly hair, "How about you rest and FIli can tell me the third thing when he comes?

Kili shook his head, "I need to get back, actually. See you in a bit!"

And just like he had come, Kili disappeared.

Taking in a deep breath, Bilbo put down the rags and stretched his arms. As his muscles cracked, Bilbo walked over to the small bench that sat at a distance. His legs hurt, and so did his hands. He could not quite work with the Dwarves, but that did not mean he could not contribute. 

But despite everything, Bilbo could feel the loss of his presence. He was in a mountain surrounded by Dwarrows, where everyone had someone. Reaching out into his pocket, Bilbo held on to the small token he had been carrying for some time.

“What is that?”

Bilbo barely had time to turn before Thorin was right in front of him, his eyes crazed. “In your hand.”

He opened his mouth, but couldn't feel any sound come out. Thorin looked at him with such suspicion. 

“It’s nothing,” he whispered softly, closing his fist tightly and looking down.

“Show me,” Thorin all but demanded.

Bilbo looked up, tired. He extended his hand and opened his palm to show the acorn.

“I picked it up in Beorn's gardens,” Bilbo said, looking at the small seed. "I was just...thinking. About, getting here, getting home, you know."

“An acorn?” Thorin huffed, “Only you, Bilbo.”

Bilbo smiled too, finally looking up at Thorin. A soft smile graced his face, and Bilbo could feel relief course through his veins.

“Well, I noticed the land around here is very barren," Bilbo said conversationally, "A little greenery wouldn’t hurt.”

Thorin looked at him, as if seeing him for the first time, “It would take a lot of care.” he said softly, closing Bilbo's hands with his own.

Bilbo huffed, pocketing the acorn, “Good thing I am willing to work for it then. Balin said the lands were once lined with woodlands. I know one acorn cannot populate the whole land, but well.”

"Who says it can't?" chuckled Thorin, "Keep that acorn of yours safe. What are you doing here?"

"Cleaning the records room."

"Alone?"

Bilbo shrugged. Thorin frowned, stepping up and taking Bilbo's hands. "You don't have to work, _ghivashel_. You are my Husband."

"And you are going to tell the Dwarves here that now, are you?"

To Bilbo's surprise, Thorin leaned down to kiss Bilbo on his cheek. "As soon as we are done with this nonsense. My _Adad_ is here, you know."

"Yes?"

Thorin said nothing else, just gazed at Bilbo. Bilbo blinked, sort of excited suddenly.

Until Dwalin came with the news of Men and Elves on the gate.


	24. Learn words of old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sooo wanna say "SURPRISE" but y'all are super smart and have been guessing this since forever. So enjoy, all those questions I did not answer. And DRAMA!

The wind howled at a distance, cold air creeping up to the mountain of Erebor. Snow would come soon- some of it had already started. The newly constructed wall stood tall, barring any entry to the mountain anymore from the front. The way back was shut as well. On the rampart stood two Princes of Erebor- Thorin and Frerin, each either their trusted people and the Company. Thorin’s face was full of rage, while Frerin’s was calmer. The other's face varied- Lady Dreya looked blank, but there was something hidden within. Beside her stood General Kiri, looking ready to attack. The four younger Durins looked worried and confused, sneaking glances at their Uncles and Father. Balin and Dwalin looked tired, and so did almost every other member of the Company.

The small dot at a distance was coming closer, and soon a man atop a white horse could be seen. It was Bard Dragonslayer, the bowman, who was making his way to the Dwarves' home. The Elvish army was far away, but none were sure whether they would attack or not. Honestly, none would be surprised if they did, considering the long turbulent relationship between Dwarrows and Elves.

Bard stopped before the wall, getting off his horse, “Hail, Thorin and Frerin, sons of Thrain. We are much glad to find you here.”

Thorin glared at the man. He had nothing to say or offer to him. Luckily, it was Frerin who spoke, his words laced with bitterness, “Indeed. When years of friendship falls to ashes you must turn to pretty words.”

“No friendship has fallen, Lord Frerin,” Bard said seriously, “The children of Girion and the Durins remain bound. I mean no ill-will.”

“No?” Frerin raised an eyebrow, “Is that why you have come with an army? An army of those who have betrayed us before?”

Bard seemed to grit his teeth, before saying, “Tauriel is an elf.”

The name struck a chord, for she was a close friend. Thorin looked at Frerin slowly, trying to gauge his reaction. He looked pained at her mentioned, and said, “Tauriel is not among them.”

Thorin snorted. Yes, the Captain was not with them, and even if she were, he had no intention of being civil to those betrayers, “You come to us armed for war.”

Bard turned to him, shaking his head, “Why do you fence yourself in the mountain like a robber in his hold?”

Frerin growled, leaning forward, “Take care of how you speak, Bowman.”

“Then let us talk like friends, Silvertongue," Bard said, turning to him, visible desperation in his voice, "and not as enemies as you have perceived.”

There was a moment of quiet, neither party unaware of what to speak. Then, Frerin stood straight, and nodded, as if giving Bard a chance to speak.

Bard looked hurt, but still decided to speak, “The Dragon burnt Lake-town, and no matter how prepared we were we have lost many supplies. Food, clothes, money. You gave us clothes, you gave us helpers, and you gave us food. For that, we are ever grateful to you. But you and I both know how poor the harvest has been this year. We cannot farm on the coast of Mirkwood lest face a charge fo trespassing, whose punishment is death. We have no food, Frerin, and if you sent any more rations to us you would have nothing to feed your Dwarves. Furthermore, whatever you sent would never be enough for men and women now. The Elvenking has come with supplies which we cannot refuse. But if we talk and settle the matter of our share of the treasure, he will not attack.”

“Share of treasure?” huffed Frerin, “What do you think it was that we sent until now, Bard? Charity?”

“I am not asking for anything from you,” said Bard, fixing a stare at Thorin, “He promised us a fair of treasure when he came to Lake-Town.”

Frerin opened his mouth, but Thorin raised his hand, essentially silencing Frerin. He looked at Bard, a frown on his face.

“We were held hostage,” he said, “and the share of treasure was a bargaining chip. Tell me, was it a fair trade?”

“And what of the destruction?” shot back Bard, “What of the cruelty that the men had to face due to your endeavour? Have you thought of that?”

“Did we not show sympathy? Did we not send help?” sneered Thorin, “Do not tell me of destruction, Bowman, for I have seen it too. You have come armed for war to our doorstep, and that is what you shall get.”

Bard huffed, shaking his head, “Well then, why send even one chest? Why give us any hope?”

That had Frerin frowning. Thorin looked at him in question, and he seemed to have no answer to give. Confused, Frerin demanded “Chest? Which chest?”

Bard looked around in confusion as well, but the Royal family of Erebor was fidgeting. Dreya lay a calming hand on both her children's shoulder and stepped up, turning the attention to her. She bowed to Frerin, almost mockingly, before saying, “You ordered to send for more supplies, Your Majesty.”

The last words might as well have been a sneer. Frerin, however, was unable to catch on. He turned to his wife, confused, “Yes, supplies, but I sent no chest.”

“They needed no more nails or iron, or clothes or food,” Dreya said quietly yet sternly, “A chest from the treasure of Village was sent instead.”

Thorin’s eyes widened, “You sent them money?”

Dreya looked icily at Thorin, “I sent them aid, under the direction of our King.”

Frerin huffed, “I said supplies, Dreya, no money! You! You would betray me like this?”

“I have not betrayed you!” Dreya said, “I was listening to my King-”

“STOP!”

Time itself froze. Dreya looked as if slapped, and Frerin's children looked ready to draw their weapons. A small gesture from their mother had them doing nothing.

"Frerin!" Kiri thundered, "You raise your voice on your One?"

Frerin turned to Kiri, frowning, "You knew, didn't you?"

"Of course-"

"I have nothing to hear from any of you!" he said angrily, turning back to Bard, “Keep that chest, bowman, and remember what is given.”

Bard blinked, clearly surprised at his behaviour. He tried to look at Dreya, or Reya, or even Vorin and Kiri for any sort of help, but all he got was dejected faces. “What now?” he demanded, shaken by Frerin’s behaviour.

“We will face the Elves as they come. Go, scurry off to your allies and pray to Vala that when this ends, you will come out alive.”

* * *

Bilbo wasn't sure where he was being carted off to. All he knew was that soon after Bard the Bowman had disappeared, the two brothers had gone off, muttering to themselves and refusing any company. If there was an upside to the madness, it was only that the Durins weren't killing each other. 

He wasn't sure what to do and was going to look for Gandalf, but he was instead being dragged around by Fili. The tunnels in Erebor was confusing, and Bilbo knew he would never be able to find his way out of the madness. They went down one place after the other until Fili pushed himself and Bilbo inside a small chamber.

It was a spacious room, lit up by torches. By the table set in the middle, it could have been a council room of sort, though from Bilbo had seen the council room too was inlaid with jewels and gold. Balin and Dwalin sat there with Kiri and Dreya. Reya stood beside her mother, looking murderous. By the way, she polished her axe, Bilbo was truly worried for his life. On the farthest seats sat Kili and Vorin, looking too sombre for their own ages.

Everyone looked up in surprise as Bilbo came in, and looked as confused as him. Still, Bilbo asked, “Why am I here?”

“Indeed," Dreya asked, confused, "Why is Master Baggins here?”

Fili stood straight, shooting everyone a challenging look before saying, “With all due respect Lady Dreya, Master Baggins will find out about it later. So, it is wise to have him in the discussion from the very beginning.”

There was an exchange of doubtful looks across the room. Balin tried to say something, but Dwalin rested a hand on his brother's shoulder and shook his head.

Bilbo was somewhat glad to see support for his stay, but he was still confused. “What discussion?”

Dreya sat straight, gesturing Fili and Bilbo to take a seat. Once everyone was settled down, she said, “It is about the Kingship of Erebor. Things are afoot, things beyond our understanding. Lord Thrain has not shown any signs of gold sickness, but a different ailment plagues his mind. Meanwhile, both our respective kIngs have fallen into the traps. And in this madness, and perhaps even out of this, they have decided that neither will take up the mantle of King Under the Mountain."

"Seriously?" asked Kili, looking worried, "I mean, there ought to be some way to talk to them calmly. He is old!"

"Indeed my boy," said Balin, "He is old, having passed the age of Thror when he died. Often Dwarrows that old do remain Kings, but in those cases, the Kingship is handled by the Heir."

"Which doesn't seem to be the case here," Dreya said, "I speak not for Lord Thorin, but Frerin has definitely given up any semblance of being the King. He seemed to take offence on the fact that I could even call him King on the ramparts."

That left a bad taste in Bilbo's mouth. True, he and Frerin were not best of friends, but from what he had seen of the Dwarf he was quite a lovely sort of dwarf. The sort who loved his family. The display on the rampart was astoundingly shocking.

“I told you, did I not?” Muttered Reya, holding her axe even tightly. "I swear to Mahal, had I not know of his ailment Amad, I would have shaved his braids."

“Reya, mind how you speak!" scolded Kiri, "You know nothing of what is happening now."

Dreya sighed, raising a hand before a scruffily could break out between the General and the Princess, "Reya, I appreciate your sentiment, but this is really not the moment."

“Forgive me, Amad.”

Fili leaned forward, taking over the conversation, "Balin, Lady Kiri, you knew Thrain before he disappeared. How was he as an heir?"

Truth be told, Bilbo's heart was swelling in pride at the way Fili was handling things. Truly, it was not his space and nor did he have any say over the younger dwarf, but he surely had grown to love Fili. As time passed, watching the lessons instilled in him by Thorin became clearer and it was a proud moment for Bilbo. 

His musings were stopped as Balin sighed loudly, "Prince Thrain was...not an extraordinary Prince, like Thorin, but not a useless one either. He knew the ins and outs of kingship and could settle matters among the Dwarrows very well. He was an able soldier and well administrator."

"But?"

"But he is a prejudiced arse," Kiri said with a snort.

"Lady Kiri!"

She snorted, clearly not shaken by anyone's surprise, "He is. Until that changed on road?"

Balin sighed, "No, it did not. Thorin is the one who talked to Men for aid."

"But that's horrible!" said Bilbo, "Thorin and Frerim are clearly in no condition to talk to the armies and if Thrain does negotiations then...then..."

"Exactly, Master Baggins," said Dreya, "So for now, all of us who have not yet succumbed to the madness of Gold, we need to do our best. Keep talking to them, try and get peace. They have declared a party in these times, but perhaps we can use it to our advantage. All of us, the point is that we can not override what they ask us to do, but we can influence them. Because we are in no condition to go to war, with anyone, and if we fail, then Mahal bless us things could go terribly wrong."

* * *

Barrels of ale and trunks of food were rolled out in the hall. Years of cobweb were cleaned and washed, and while the rest of the mountain remained blissfully empty and filled with debris, the Grand Halls became a path to move to the past for just a moment.

The torches were lit. Gleaming lanterns on gold floated, and crystals hung on the high ceiling, reflecting the light. The crockery laid out was made of pure gold and held a shine, unlike anything Fili had ever seen. If the splendour he saw was even half of what Erebor once was, then he was truly awestruck.

“It’s mesmerizing.”

Fili found himself nodding on Kili’s words. They did not have the fine carpet to lay down on the raised platform, else Fili was sure it would have been laid down.

“I never thought Amad’s stories were true, you know,” Kili whispered, taking everything in, “They sounded so out of the world.”

Fili sighed, “If this was their reality, no wonder Ered Luin felt small.”

Kili nodded, moving aside as another cartload of things were brought inside. His face had a frown, that was usually missing.

“Fili?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you feel it?”

Fili turned to him with a questioning look.

“The call of the gold,” explained Kili, “It’s...had Bilbo not warned us I wouldn’t have noticed it.”

Scratching his beard, Fili turned away. He had not really noticed it, the truth be told.

“What is it like for you?” he asked.

Kili took a deep breath, looking at the golden plates on the dinner table, “It’s like the fantasies of childhood. Stories that you knew could never be true, suddenly earning a chance to become reality. I have this unexplainable desire to just wear the jewels, to protect them. Or to lay them down on my bow. Practically, I know they would be heavy, but wouldn’t it look beautiful?”

“I don’t know,” admitted Fili, “I don’t feel it. Not quite like you do anyways.”

“But Thorin and Frerin do.”

“Oh, they definitely do,” FIli muttered darkly.

Kili sighed, scratching his head, “Do you think we will turn out like them?”

Fili turned to his brother. He laid a hand on his shoulder, a smile on his face, “Kili, a month ago we did not even know that Frerin existed. Not as this King anyways.”

“And now our grandfather is going to be King," Kili said with a shake of the head, "It’s a bit too exciting. Oh, Amad would love it when she comes here.”

If we all survive that is, Fili thought sullenly. But he did not say it out loud. The last thing he wanted was to upset his brother more.

* * *

Bilbo was not sure what to make of the feast. It was nothing like the rowdy dinner in Bag End, but trying to hold up to that. An impending war was probably damning everyone’s spirits, but it still looked very less exciting.

He hadn’t talked to Thorin yet. He couldn’t, not when he stood by his father the entire time. So did Frerin, and it was an interesting picture. The children of Frerin stood by their mother, clearly displeased at their father’s behaviour, but unwilling to speak up. Bilbo could somewhat understand the hesitation.

What shocked him that night was when Dreya settled down beside him on the bench. As long as Bilbo had lived, he had never exactly had a direct conversation with the dwarf. She was quite scary if Bilbo was being honest. Somewhat like his mother.

“How do you fare, Master Baggins?”

Baggins choked on his drink, not expecting to be actually addressed. Clearing his throat, Bilbo smiled, “I well, perfectly fine, Lady Dreya. How, um, how are you?”

She smiled softly, her back straight, her eyes trailing to the dinner on the table, “Could be better, but I have seen worse.”

Bilbo hummed, taking another sip of his drink. The ale made him feel quite sick, so instead, he had struck with the drink made for children.

“Master Baggins, may I ask you a question?”

“Yes?”

Dreya hummed, before turning to look at him as if he was a puzzle to be solved. Well, he was clearly not more secretive than the Dwarrows.“How close are you and Master Thorin?”

Honestly, Bilbo was getting pissed with that question. With Thorin being weird, not really getting a chance to actually speak up, and everyone looking at him suspiciously, he was at the tip of his temper.

“Close enough, I ensure you,” Bilbo said, half angry half annoyed “I have known Thorin since I reached my majority and know almost every other tale that he has had to offer.”

Dreya hummed, looking at Bilbo curiously, “I myself have known Frerin since were kids.”

That...was not what Bilbo had expected.

“What?”

“Dis and I were playmates,” she explained with a soft smile, going down the memory lane, “Dams have always been rare, and having been born just a few years before the princess had its perks. My father was a Lord, and I spent quite some time with Dis and Frerin.”

Bilbo turned, curiosity brimming within him.

“When the dragon came, and the remaining dwarves finally gathered, Frerin and I worked together a lot,” she said with a nostalgic smile, “Kiri, of course, helped, but she was more of going straight in the battle with a sword than think things through. Frerin and I...we made plans. He distracted the dragon, I snuck out the supplies.”

A shaky sigh left her lips as her eyes trailed back to the said dwarf, who was currently talking in hushed tones with his father, “I have known him since forever, been there through his best and worst. When he offered me a simple copper bangle as a courting gift, everyone told me not to accept, for he was the King and he should give me more. But I knew he had stayed awake for days, in between the ruling and negotiations, just to make me that. How do you say no to that gesture?”

Bilbo knew he did not have to answer to that. It was quite a different picture form the dwarf he had come to know, but being honest, he could imagine Frerin doing that. He could also imagine Thorin doing that.

Dreya ran a hand over the said bangle that rested on her left arm, a sadness creeping on her face, “The dwarf who stood on the rampart today and who sits there right now, is not the same. I have seen this before, and I warned him. He didn’t listen.”

“He was quite adamant that he needed to help Thorin,” Bilbo found himself admitting, “I never quite understood why or how.”

Dreya smiled sadly, “Because he thinks he needs to solve every problem. It’s sort of his second nature by now.”

“But how is plunging yourself into the same sickness helping?”

For a moment, Dreya did not speak. Bilbo wondered if he had overstepped his boundaries when Dreya said, “Do you know, Master Baggins, that this is not the first time we have encountered this sickness?”

Bilbo shuddered, “He might have mentioned being under the constant effect of it.”

Dreya nodded, “Far longer than we really knew. Years ago, when Frerin, Kiri and I were dwarflings and still had not escaped the mountain, the few miners were tasked with making a tunnel out of the village. The one you use now to get out. Frerin had to make sure he stayed inside so that he could engage the dragon, and Kiri and I ran rampant to distract him from time to time. It took ages, to finally carve a way out, but we did manage it. Everyone held their breath when the moment finally came. We couldn’t just crawl out- the dragon would sense it. It took meticulous planning, and in the end, it was him and I that remained back. That was the first-time Frerin was ensnared by gold.”

Bilbo took in a deep breath as Dreya shook her head, “I was too young to understand what it truly was, but it was impossible not to see the ugliness. Frerin was bickering with the dragon, as usual, and I was getting ready for an explosion- to distract Smaug. Everything was going according to plan. Dwarves managed to escape, and I let the bomb out at the same time.”

“What happened?”

“He refused to leave the gold,” Dreya said with a shudder, “Even as the Dragon moved to other sides, distracted by the noise, Frerin refused to move where he could not see the gold. We had not even reached our first majority, so young, were we. Yet he was ensnared, and no amount of cajoling could bring him out. We would have died there, me trying to get him off, had Kiri not barged in. She was family, and she managed to pull Frerin out of his madness just in time. Not fast enough, of course, for the dragon managed to burn some of his faces after all.”

The tale ended, and a burst of loud laughter from the Company brought Bilbo back to the present. It felt wrong, sitting there, laughing when people seemed to have gone through such trauma. To live through a constant sickness, aware of what it could do to you, aware of what it has done before, and yet continuing to make way for the future. 

Shaking his head, Bilbo turned to Dreya, “Why are you telling me this?”

Finally, Dreya turned to face him. Her face was set in determination, “Because we failed, Master Baggins. Kiri and I both failed to break him out of this madness. He thought he could go in and break Master Thorin out of it, and instead fell to the curse. If you are indeed as close as you say you are, then you are our only hope.”

“Fili and Kili-”

“-are children," Dreya said sadly, "Furthermore, they are his nephews, not sons. I have seen the way he looks at you- even in this madness, he cares. And you clearly care for him just as much, if not more.”

Without a word, Dreya stood up, looking forward again, “I understand if it’s too much, but you are currently our only hope.”

And with that, she was gone.

Now wasn’t this a pleasant evening?

* * *

As the day began to come to an end, Dwarves got drunk. At one point, Bofur and Fili got up on the table and began to dance. There was mirth all around, despite the lingering doubt and heavy mantle of worry.

When it got a bit too much, Bilbo sought the terrace. From there, he could see the city of Dale. It felt wrong, watching campfire illuminating the city rather than lanterns. Once it would have been beautiful, the barren lands lined with woods opening up to the beautiful trading city of Dale. Perhaps late at night when Erebor had its share of parties, Dale would have its own songs and dances. But so was the tale, and in the desolate present, Bilbo felt quite powerless.

He knew he had to do something. Dreya was right- even if Thorin was being impossible, he cared for Bilbo. He should. Bilbo could do something drastic like kissing him in front fo his aged father, but it could have a different effect and Bilbo did not want a death on his head.

“You look troubled, my friend.”

Bilbo jumped, finding Gandalf leaning over the railing beside him. He held a pipe and a smile on his face.

“Ah, well,” Bilbo played with his jacket, “With the battle and all...”

Gandalf hummed, “Worry not, for I shall go talk to the Elf and the Man tonight itself. If all comes to pass, the war will be against the orcs.”

“There will be a battle no matter what we do, then,” Bilbo said sadly.

“Some things are inevitable, and it is wise to embrace what is to come rather than fear it.”

Huffing, Bilbo turned to Gandalf with an 'I am done with you' expression, "Where do you get all these wise words from, honestly? Do you have a book hidden somewhere in your robes?”

To that, Gandalf laughed, and Bilbo felt some of his worries ease away. It felt nice, to hear some genuine laughter. Bilbo laughed too, leaning over the railing and looking back, imagining life there.

Gandalf puffed out a perfect smoke ring before turning to him, “So, how are you two doing?”

Bilbo shrugged, “Thorin is busy, as you can see. The kingdom, his brother, his father. We hardly get to spend time together.”

Gandalf hummed, “I did not mean Thorin.”

Bilbo frowned, looking at Gandalf curiously, “Then who? Fili? Well, I haven’t talked to him much either, except about the-”

“Bilbo,” Gandalf cut him off, looking confusedly at the Hobbit, “how long has it been since you have seen a Healer?”

Bilbo blinked, “I see Oin regularly?”

Gandalf looked at him unimpressed, “You know what I mean.”

“Why?" Bilbo instead asked, "You sense something wrong with me?”

Gandalf opened his mouth in surprise, “More like something right. Truly, you haven’t seen the symptoms?”

“Of what, exactly?”

“You expecting. A child.”

Bilbo blinked. Once. Twice. Then again.

“I beg your pardon?” he all but squeaked.

“It’s still in early stages,” Gandalf went on, “But I think that you of all people would have noticed.”

Bilbo shook his head, absolutely discarding Gandalf's words. if he dwelled at those words, he would start to have one of Thorin's episodes or even one of his, which were never pretty, “No. Not possible. I, Gandalf, I have herbs! I haven’t...not after...”

“And you have had herbs all the while?”

Bilbo opened his mouth, then closed it. The packet had fallen off in the Misty Mountains, and he was more worried about his damned leg back then than the bloody leaf.

“But we couldn’t have...” spluttered Bilbo. Gandalf just looked amused as he blew another ring of smoke.

“I remember Beorn’s house very well.”

That was it. Days of missed morning sickness crept up to him and suddenly, Bilbo was darting off inside the mountain.

* * *

Thorin watched Bilbo scurry off, Gandalf hot on his tail. He wanted to go on, follow him beyond but just then Frerin stood up with Thrain.

Sighing, Thorin followed his Adad. Bilbo trusted Gandalf. Whatever it was, they would handle it.

“Welcome, all! The last few days have been very turbulent in our lives. People lost have come back home..."

Thorin watched the people listen to his brother. Truly, he had a way with words. Thorin did want to listen to him, but he was tasked with a different job. 

Back in Thrain's room, when the three Durins were shut in, Thorin had told Thrain about the still missing Arkenstone.

"That's troubling news," Thrain had said, "The stone is important. Where could it be?"

Frerin had sighed, sitting down, beside Thorin, "None have seen it. My villagers say so, but after Dreya has done..."

"It could be a pull of gold," said Thorin, "It's strong, she might not realize. We need to check everyone."

"You can't just barge into anyone's home, Thorin," Frerin said seriously, "That would earn you, and me, a very bad reputation. They would refuse to talk to us, or even be polite."

"Then what shall we do? let the stone be lost?"

Thrain hummed, "No. Look at them. Look at their faces. Look at who seems guilty."

"At all of them? At once?"

Frerin nodded, as if agreeing with the idea, "I can speak. Talk about the Arkenstone, and otherwise. See who turns sour. Perhaps we will have some inkling?"

It had sounded like a good idea. And it was indeed. When Frerin mentioned the Arkenstone, a lot of dwarves' face turned sour. To Thorin's uttermost betrayal, Balin and Dwalin were among them. Frerin's wife and children too, along with the Urs. Not the RI's, and Thorin was glad for that. Nori was a good spy, he was needed. His own nephews, thankfully, just looked sad. At least he could trust them.

There were many from Erebor too, one or two nobles whose name Thorin couldn't pinpoint, but he would remember their faces. When Frerin slightly turned to him, Thorin nodded. Frerin nodded back in understanding and Thrain grunted, standing straight.

he was dressed in old royal garbs that they had found. All three of them were, and it was wonderful. truly the way it should have been.

"... For long I have ruled upon our people, but our true King has come back. My brother ruled for long, but we agree, that it is time to pass on the mantle to our father. When this time will come to an end, we will celebrate together, but now, all hail King Thrain, son fo Thror, the King Under the Mountain.”

The cheer was slow to come, but it did. Thorin was not deterred, for it was surprising news after all.

All that he cared for was that Erebor was finally settling down.

* * *

“Gandalf, I can’t do this.”

Bilbo had emptied the contents of his stomach in the pot and was feeling no better. Against his own head, Bilbo had found himself caressing his stomach. There was nothing there, truly.

Well, if Gandalf was to be believed there was, but...

Bilbo pressed his hand a little harder, trying to feel something. Ever since Bain...they hadn't exactly tried. They hadn't even talked. It was like an unspoken agreement between him and Thorin. The only time they even mentioned anything remotely close to a babe was when Bilbo gathered a flock of hobbit children to tell them of his adventures.

The only time when they would even think of Edis and Bain together would be the evenings when both of them would sit beside their small grave. Neither said a word then, Bilbo perhaps reading aloud a book and Thorin working on metal. Recently it had brought them a sort of closure, but with another expectancy...

“Nonsense, Bilbo,” Gandalf said kindly, helping Bilbo stand up, "You are the only man who can take up any challenge."

“The last time my child died.”

Gandalf somberly said, “Much has changed.”

“Exactly!" Bilbo burst out, almost tearing his hair, "Thorin is gold sick now! We have a mountain getting ready for war. Gandalf, oh, Gandalf I cannot do this.”

Gandalf leaned down and smiled gently. Keeping a hand on Bilbo's shoulder, he said, “My dear Bilbo, it will all be over.”

“Can you promise me it will end well?”

Gandalf said nothing to that. The silence was answer enough. Closing his eyes, Bilbo tried to reign in his breath. There was much to do, and to think, and to speak, and he couldn't really lose his calm or his head. 

“I must be off,” Gandalf eventually said. Shuddering, Bilbo nodded.

The Hobbit and the Wizard walked out to the village and the exit where two guards stood straight. At looking at the wizard, they stiffened, but one glare from Gandalf had them resuming their position. 

Bilbo did not follow Gandalf out and bid him goodbye hurriedly. It was not very late, the evening light somewhat still visible in the sky. To think so much had happened in just one day- Bilbo's head was spinning.

As the horse disappeared, Bilbo turned back and walked inside the Mountain. It was so different- he was not even at his home. If he was back in Bag End, Bilbo would have probably opened the chest. Bain's chest, where Thorin had shut his toy and the blanket Bilbo had made, along with various other gifts. He longed to touch the soft wool, anything, to give him some semblance of home. At the moment, everything around him was terribly dwarven. Bilbo needed something Hobbitish, anything. 

“Everything okay Bilbo?”

The sudden voice had the Hobbit jumping, a hand pressed on his heart. As he looked up, he could see a mischievous smile on Fili's lips.

"For Yavnnah's sake!" Bilbo exclaimed, "You scared me!"

Fili raised his hands, but the crooked smile still graced his face, "Not trying to scare you."

"Well, you certainly failed!" Bilbo said, breathing heavily, "What's the matter?"

To that, Fili's face fell. “It was as we feared. They declared Thrain King.”

“Oh, dear.” Another problem on their head. Honestly, such stories were best in Bilbo's storybooks, not his life. Why did he ever have to fall in love with a King?

“Come," FIli said with a wry smile, "Thorin is introducing the Company, and I have no doubt he is dying to introduce you.”

Bilbo sighed, remembering Balin and Kiri's words from the meeting, “Well then, if we must.”


	25. See (and find) a family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaat? Such a fast update? Whaat!
> 
> Well, yes. We are coming close, and hopefully we will be done with When the Sun Rises before Christmas. or at least before New Year. It's a dangerous territory we are getting into now, and I hope all of you stick together! AAAH, can't wait!
> 
> Also, yes, the chapter count has increased. Stuff happened. 
> 
> This chapter's note beta read- well none of my chapters really are, but this might have more errors. Sorry!

“So this is the Hobbit.”

Bilbo felt butterflies flutter in his stomach. Which could be due to two particular reasons, but he was trying not to focus on the other one. Facing his father-in-law was never a scenario Bilbo had exactly prepared for, considering he was named dead. Now there sat Thrain, weak, far too thin for a dwarf, wisps of hair, cleaned yet pale.

Despite his horrible physical presence, his eyes scared Bilbo. He had the same crazed eyes that of Thorin and Frerin. It was darker than either of his sons too.

Thorin’s clap brought Bilbo back to the present. Bilbo looked up, and oh he really needed to tell Thorin about what he had learned but the dark circles under his eyes were becoming more pronounced. How Thorin did not notice it was beyond Bilbo’s understanding.

“He is our Burglar, father,” Thorin all but gloated, “Faced off the Dragon alone.”

Bilbo tried to smile a bit, but it might have looked like a grimace. He did not exactly do much, considering Frerin all but swooped in. But yes, he did talk to a dragon and buttered him a little bit. Just a teeny bit.

Thrain walked up to Bilbo, his eyes narrowed. Frerin supported him every step, yet he looked intimidating. As Thrain glared down at him, Bilbo felt a tinge up his spine.

“I thought Halflings didn’t venture far from home.”

“I am as much a Halfling as you are,” Bilbo shot out before he could think about it, “I am a Hobbit as you are a dwarf, and I would really appreciate it if you called me such. Your Majesty.”

Someone gasped. Everyone held their breath, even Thorin. Bilbo was not sure what had taken over his head, but he did not regret a word that left his mouth. Thrain looked murderous, but that was his usual expression when he wasn’t looking at his sons.

“Quick with a tongue, aren’t you Master Hobbit?” Thrain all but sneered.

“Considering it was the only thing that saved me against a dragon, yes,” Bilbo replied curtly. Thrain huffed, pausing to truly look at Bilbo.

The moments stretched, and inside Bilbo was squirming. He had to leave a lasting impression and thus stared back.

Finally, Thrain said, “You have my gratitude for freeing our home.”

It didn’t sound like he was very grateful, but Bilbo allowed that to slide. Thorin already looked like he was ready to burst a vein. Which would have been fun under different circumstances.

If Dis was anything like her father and the other brother, Bilbo was suddenly a lot less excited to meet her.

Bilbo had to feel a little sorry for Thorin. He was after all introducing his secret husband to his once dead father. Gold sickness or not, it couldn’t be an easy time.

“I merely followed the example of a great leader,” Bilbo said with a genuine, if sad smile, “He taught me to fight for what is right and your own.”

Bilbo slightly turned to see a hesitant yet proud smile on Thorin’s face. He slowly reached out for Bilbo’s back, and they brushed their bodies for just a millisecond. They were not trying to hide it either. Bilbo was glad for that.

“And what is your own here, Master Baggins?”

Bilbo was not a genius, but Thrain’s words were clear enough.

 _You have no place here, even if we owe you a debt_.

Was this what he would have faced in Ered Luin, from various dwarf lords? Was this the prejudice Thorin was so afraid of? If yes, then that would have been better, because they weren’t at least Thorin’s father.

Had it been a normal time- and pray Yavannah, Bilbo so wished it was- Bilbo was not sure what Thorin’s reaction would it be. He could either shout or break every relationship in his vicinity or just stay quiet. Extremes were the way Thorin played, and all that Bilbo wished for was some stability from his foolish husband.

“The Company,” Bilbo finally said, deciding to spare Thorin someplace to breathe. Instead, he earned a collective gasp. Making sure not to look at anyone, he continued, “I have begun to think of them as my family. Being an orphaned child and all.”

Thrain grunted but said nothing. As he turned around, Bilbo allowed himself to smile slightly as he saw the somewhat awed faces of dwarves. They were foolish, really. For all they talked, they really never talked about their true feelings. No wonder it took Thorin ages to confess his love.

“You are here to stay then?” Thrain asked, rather rudely.

“Adad!”

The shout from Thorin was both expected and unexpected. Thrain looked confused at Thorin’s reaction, while Bilbo felt like beaming. He was barely able to school his expression as Thrain shrugged like he was just curious.

“I am just asking, Thorin.”

Bilbo huffed, deciding to take over the reins of the conversation again, “Yes. As long as I am needed.”

Thrain looked at him with a glare and sneer that could give Lobelia a run for her pies, “And what do we need you for, Master Baggins?”

“Farming,” Bilbo said simply, “The land around Erebor is horrid, Your Majesty, and I have won prizes for my tomatoes for years. I think even you need to feed your people. Though I am no Hamfest Gamgee, I assure you, a year in hand and you will have enough harvest to even export.”

Thrain looked at him, unsure as to whether Bilbo was telling the truth or not. Bilbo merely smiled, letting the older dwarf wonder.

No other words came from him. He just stood, and with a nod, began to walk away. It looked like dismissal and considering how Dwarves began to scatter, it was clear that they all understood.

As Frerin led Thrain away, Thorin stayed back, beside Bilbo. He half expected him to follow after his father.

Once Bilbo and Thorin were given some privacy, Thorin shook his head.

“I am sorry for _Adad,”_ he whispered, “I should have told him. Or you.”

Bilbo blinked, rather shocked at Thorin’s words. They were almost normal. In fact, around Bilbo, they were almost always normal.

“It’s all right,” Bilbo said, gently running his hand over Thorin’s arm, “He is suspicious of me. I think he is suspicious of everyone.”

“It does not excuse his behavior.”

“No, it does not.”

Thorin sighed, massaging his temple, “I have to go, prepare for tomorrow. But I promise, once this madness comes to an end, I will handle it all.”

Bilbo flinched slightly at the word madness but nodded nevertheless. “Yes, that would be nice.”

After a pause, Bilbo added, “Also, Thorin, we might need to talk.”

Thorin frowned, “Is something the matter?”

“Maybe?” it wasn’t a bad matter. Or was it? Oh, Yavannah, he did not know anymore. He needed to be sure first, “It’s not important right now, but if you could find the time...”

“As soon as I can, Bilbo, I promise.”

* * *

As soon as Thorin walked away from the hall, Fili approached Bilbo. He opened his mouth to speak, but Bilbo shook his head, looking around. Once careful, he lead the younger dwarf away from the main hall.

Contrary to the Hall ready for the feast, the hallways were dark, illuminated by the bare minimum. The debris still littered around. Bilbo led Fili to a small corner.

The dirt was lying happily on the boulder. But a loud gush of wind displaced it completely. Bilbo settled down and patter the place beside him. Fili sat down with a sigh, and for a moment neither spoke.

Fili was feeling extremely angry, but he was not sure how to bring it up with Bilbo. The said Hobbit was just sitting, lost in his own thought Watching him so calm, Fili shook his head.

“How grandfather talked with you was most improper.” Fili finally said.

Bilbo looked up at Fili, smiling a bit. “It’s all right. Stop pouting.”

Fili was not pouting, “No it isn’t. Honestly, from the stories I had heard from _Amad_ , I would have thought he was better than the others.”

Bilbo gently patted Fili. The golden prince shook his head, groaning lightly, “Mahal, had winter not set in, I would have taken you back to the Shire. At least there you wouldn’t face this.”

To that, Bilbo let out a loud laugh, “Oh boy, if anything in the Shire I would be more ridiculed. The only reason nobody says anything is because they are afraid of Thorin. I am not a respectable Hobbit you know, marrying a dwarf, going on adventures.”

“Still,” said Fili, irritation brimming within him, “It’s home right?”

Bilbo let out a sad huff, “There’s nothing for me in the Shire, Fili. I am as much at home here as I was in the Shire. Yes, I do miss my father’s armchair and my books, but that’s all right.”

With a sigh, he added, “Anyways, I have written away Bag End to my cousin Drogo.”

“You have WHAT?”

Bilbo shushed the younger dwarf, looking around before shaking his head, “Quiet. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” Fili wanted to tear out his hair, “Bilbo, do you currently have no home?”

“I have you. And Thorin. And the Company.”

Fili looked down at Bilbo, unimpressed. The Hobbit just waved his hand, as if it was of no matter.

“Whyever would you do that?”

For a moment, Bilbo said nothing. He was holding his stomach, and no wonder he was, being so cold inside the mountain. Then, he smiled sadly and said, “Because the alternative was staying away for Thorin, and truth be told, even with everything going wrong, I cannot bring myself to do that.”

“But...”

Taking in a deep breath, Bilbo said, “Back then, there were two options. Either Thorin would die, or he would become the King. Either way, I would have lost him, no matter what he says. If he were to be buried here, I would like to stay close to his resting place. If he were to rule, I could take a place in the city of men and just stay close to him.”

Fili looked at the smaller Hobbit, looking nostalgic and sad. How one could just do away with their home, for purpose of any person was beyond Fili. He wouldn’t do that for anyone. Well, perhaps for Kili and Thorin, but...

“You really love him, don’t you?” Fili asked softly “Even after everything that is happening?”

“I married him, didn’t I?”

Taking in a deep breath, Fili shook his head, “The dwarf you talk of sounds so different from the Uncle I know. It’s hard to think they are the same person sometimes.”

Bilbo hummed, “He might be different, but it is the same dwarf. I can assure you that.”

Fili did not say anything. He did not have to say anything. After all that Bilbo was doing, it honestly felt so wrong for him to be placed in such horrible situations.

But then if he had learned anything from his life as a dwarf, it was that you hardly ever got what you deserved. There were constant issues to be tackled.

Albeit hesitant, Fili wrapped an arm around Bilbo and lay his head on Bilbo’s shoulder. Bilbo wrapped his own arms around the younger dwarf’s back, patting him softly.

His face was buried into Bilbo’s shoulder, but he still spoke, “Once this is all over, I am going to make sure Thorin claims you. If he doesn’t, Kili and I will claim you as Uncle and make sure you don’t have to worry about anything. I promise.”

When Bilbo spoke, his voice sounded a little scratchy, but Fili ignored it to bury deeper into his embrace, “Thank you, my boy.”

* * *

“You don’t have to be so suspicious of him.”

“He is not a dwarf.”

“His people are the reason the dwarves of Ered Luin did not starve to death.”

Thrain sighed, shaking his head, “Trade is important, _inudoy_ , but I would not have anyone other than my own brothers and sisters such a position in my life. We are our own people. Elves look down on us, and Men care naught.”

“Hobbits are not men or Elves, _Adad,”_ Thorin said rather loudly, “I have spent ages with them, and they care not about what we have to offer. They are good people, and even if you cannot accept that, humiliating Bilbo was pointless.”

“I did no such thing,” Thrain huffed, “I was merely asking him about his presence. He is a new face.”

Thorin groaned, “There are hundreds of new faces in Erebor right now. We know that there can be dwarves that might just betray us, with the loss of Arkenstone. Why must you target Bilbo?”

“Nadad, stop.”

Thorin huffed, looking away as Frerin glared at his back. “He is just a Hobbit.”

“I trust him with my life.”

“And that’s your choice,” Frerin pointed out, “But for us, he is no more than a stranger. I have no doubt that he... _cares_...for you. That does not mean that we should all accept him with open arms.”

Thorin set his mouth firm. It would take nothing for him to tell his father and brother than the Hobbit they were so clearly distrusting is the second half of Thorin’s soul, made from Mahal’s wife’s gardens. But he did not want to impose that knowledge on his family just like that. Bilbo was a good person, a brilliant Hobbit, and he was just the right fit for the stubbornness of the Dwarven community. They would learn it soon enough.

Bilbo would show it to them. Thorin knew it.

“And he is not important right now,” said Frerin, and Thorin wanted to point out that yes, yes he was, “We have a war to prepare for.”

Thrain shuddered, “Yes, oh yes. Thorin, Frerin, both of you, oh you won’t go out, would you? The orcs, they would kill you. No, no, send armies but protect yourself first.”

Thorin turned, sharing a glance with Frerin. Neither of them had any plans to fight. The raven to Dain had not carried a message just of supplies, but also of an impending war. Thorin was not stupid- he knew that men could turn on them any moment, despite Frerin’s initial thoughts.

Dain’s army could fight, and they could spare a few soldiers from Erebor as well. But the most important thing was protecting gold. With the counting still underway, they needed to protect the money in the halls of Erebor.

“Of course Adad,” Thorin said with a smile, “Neither Frerin nor I plan to do anything of that sort.”

“You are the King anyway,” Frerin said with a smile, “If you order the people they would listen.”

“Yes, of course!” Thrain said with a nod, “Tomorrow, let everyone know. Nobody leaves the mountain. We need to protect ourselves, we need to protect our home. Those orcs could try, but they would not win.”

“We do need to be armed though,” pointed out Frerin, “We cannot let those Elves and Men know what we are planning.”

Thorin agreed with that, “Let everyone choose their weapons and armors tonight. The armory stands proud and it has much to offer to us.”

* * *

Bilbo was a little shaken from the day that was coming to an end, but it seemed the surprises were no close to ending. Still early at night, Fili had to leave to meet with his Uncle. All the Durins were called, and the mountain was in an uproar. Not quite like an attack uproar, but more like the Shire before a party. There was excitement all around, and Bilbo felt quite at loss.

Thus, he found himself back inside Dori’s house. It was empty, barring Ori who was sitting in a corner and knitting a cardigan. He greeted Bilbo with a nod, and as Bilbo settled down beside him, he automatically found his hand filled with a couple of needles and tons of yarn.

Bilbo did not think deeply and let his hands take charge. For half an hour, both worked together, without saying a word. Their peace would have continued, had Bofur, Bombur, and Nori not barged inside the house loudly.

Bombur looked properly drunk and ready to pass out. Nori was tipsy at best, but Bofur looked best.

“Ori! Bilbo!” he exclaimed happily, and Nori and Bombur followed, before bursting out into laughter. Bofur pushed them inside, kicking them into a room, sending them to bed.

Ori huffed, shaking his head, “You would think with a supposed battle tomorrow, they would drink less. But no, Nori had to go and get tipsy.”

Chuckling softly at Ori’s irritation, Bilbo looked back at his work. So did Ori, and he couldn’t help but ask, “Are you making a blanket?”

Indeed he was. It was in the very initial stages of its production, but the curve and patterns were from the Baggins family. Bilbo looked down, breathing heavily. He had not even realized what he was doing, and now he was making a blanket. A baby blanket.

Oh, Yavannah.

“Bilbo? Are you all right?”

Bilbo looked at Ori, blinking slightly, “I, um, I am? Not really?”

Ori worriedly looked at him. Bilbow was not sure where to begin. What would he even tell Ori? He did not know that Thorin and bilbo were married He would probably think that Bilbo was taking a piss.

“You can talk to me, you know,” Ori said shyly, “I can keep a secret too.”

“From Dori?”

“Especially from Dori.”

Letting out a deep sigh, Bilbo contemplated his options. It would be nice for someone to know, even if Bilbo wasn’t sure. Well, it was Gandal so he was actually sure yet...

“Remember I told you of Took oddities?” Bilbo asked.

Ori nodded.

“And how we are said to have Fae blood?”

“Yes?”

“Well,” Bilbo put down his knitting, running a hand through his curls, “One of the many oddities is that anybody with Fae blood has is that they can reproduce. Irrespective of what organs they are born with. More like all have all organs. It’s complicated but well.”

Bilbo looked at Ori expectantly. The Dwarf opened his mouth, then closed it, before finally saying, “That’s, well, good?”

Bilbo sighed, “You don’t get it, do you?”

Ori pouted sadly, “Not really, no.”

Suppressing a groan, Bilbo turned to Ori and said, “Ori, I can bear children.”

“Oh.” was all that Ori could offer.

“And Thorin and I slept at Beorn’s.”

“Oh,” he said again, blinking for a minute. As Bilbo continued to stare, he saw the cogs in Ori’s head turn and his eyes widen, “OH!”

“Yes, oh!”

Ori all but jumped, looking at Bilbo, then at his stomach, pointing there as if it was a dragon’s egg he was carrying, “Oh, oh, you mean...”

Bilbo nodded, holding his stomach gently, “Yes.”

Breathing deeply, Ori looked down. He shook his head, sitting straight and looking at Bilbo. “Does Thorin know?”

Bilbo shook his head, “As soon as I get a moment alone with him, I will.”

“But oh, Bilbo,” Ori all but cried, “This is...I don’t know. A child. Mahal.”

Shrugging, Bilbo said, “It’s, well, it is great news.”

Ori immediately nodded, making sure Bilbo did not think he thought otherwise, “Yes...but Master Thorin hasn’t claimed you. I did not even know Dwarves and Hobbits could reproduce. Oh, why tell me?”

“Because you are my good friend, Ori,” said Bilbo, “and I might not have completely accepted the fact myself.”

“Are you sure of it?”

“Gandalf told me, so yes. But I have also not checked it myself.”

“How would you check it yourself.”

Bilbo shrugged, “Hobbits have ways.”

“Good then,” Ori said, breathing a little normally. He looked at Bilbo with a soft smile, shaking his head, “Oh Bilbo, irrespective of whatever, it is great news.”

This time, Bilbo smiled softly, patting his flat stomach, “I believe it is.”

Ori opened his mouth to add something, but Bofur barreled outside, a crooked smile on his face.

“Oye, both of you,” he said, pulling Ori and Bilbo up, “We have got royal orders, to get to the armory. Come on.”

“Whatever for?” asked Ori.

“to prepare for tomorrow’s battle, Oririri,” Bofur said with a grin.

“But Bilbo...”

“Ah, I am sure we will find something his size. Let’s go.”

And without giving anyone a chance to speak, Bofur began to drag Bilbo and Ori out.

“Wait! What of Nori and Bombur?”

“They will go when they wake up. That’s what you get for drinking so much!”

Despite himself, Bilbo found himself laughing at this. His Company was filled with scatterbrains, all of them.

As the three of them marched to the armory, Bofur continued to whistle a tune. Bilbo followed, his stomach curling at the idea of war. He was so lost in the images of what battle could look like that he did not notice when they came to a stop.

Blinking, Bilbo looke dup to find Vorin looking at him with interest.

“Master Baggins!” he said with a strained smile, “just the person I was looking for.”

Bofur looked suspiciously at Vorin, “Is something wrong?”

Vorin shook his head, “No, absolutely not. I, well, I wanted to talk to Master Baggins. Alone.”

The words did not sound threatening, but Bilbo was at loss at what Vorin could possibly want. He would have liked to say that he had never interacted with him before, but it seemed that everyone was suddenly getting interested in his existence.

Bofur looked at Bilbo for confirmation, and bilbo shrugged.

“It’s nothing bad,” Vorin added quickly, “Just, wanted to talk about something. I swear no harm would come to him.”

“That makes it sound even more ominous,” Ori pointed out.

As Vorin looked at Bofur and Ori in some semblance of fear, Bilbo felt a sort of pity for the boy.

“It’s all right,” he said to Bofur and Ori, “I will come to the armory in a while.”

“Ya sure?” Bofur asked, looking at him carefully. He was definitely telling Bilbo to shout or something if anything happened, and bilbo nodded.

Giving one last look to Vorin, Bofur left with Ori, Leaving Bilbo and Vorin alone.

“So?”

Vorin looked around, a bit hesitant, “Can we go somewhere private?”

Bilbo frowned but followed the younger dwarf nevertheless. He led Bilbo into a small alcove, nothing that was hidden from the general view, but something which gave them enough privacy.

“All right, Master Vorin,” began Bilbo.

Vorin shook his head, “Vorin, please. I am younger than you.”

“Not really.”

“Aren’t you middle-aged?”

“Hobbist age differently,” offered Bilbo.

Vorin shrugged, as if it was irrelevant, “That’s all right. There is something I need to confess, and I did not where else to turn.”

“Oookay,” Bilbo said cautiously.

Vorin looked around, making sure he and Bilbo were truly alone, before reaching out to one of the many pockets in his clothes. Bilbo raised an eyebrow as he fiddled through his pocket, searching for something. It couldn’t be a knife, and he doubted it was something that Vorin would attack him with.

However, whatever Bilbo had expected, it was not what rested in Vorin’s hands.

“Dear Yavannah,” Bilbo breathed out, his mouth open and his eyes wide, “Is that...”

“The Arkenstone. Yes.”

Bilbo blinked at the large stone in Vorin’s hand. It was definitely the same Bilbo had seen all those days ago, just beside his feet, minutes before Frerin had appeared to talk to Smaug. Up close, it looked beautiful. Even Bilbo, who had no love lost for any jewel could see why Arkenstone was so valued. It looked as if it had every jewel within itself.

“Vorin,” Bilbo said gently, “The whole mountain is going mad searching for it. How long have you had this?”

Gulping, Vorin closed his palms and removing the stone from anybody’s view, “I picked it up when Adad was talking to Smaug. I knew not what it was, but it called to me.”

He had had the stone...for weeks. All the while when everyone was searching for it, it was with the Prince of Erebor.

“Why haven’t you given it back?”

“Because it’s wrong.”

Bilbo blinked, “Pardon?”

Vorin shook his head, pocketing the stone once again. Pulling on his braids, Vorin began to fidget. He looked at Bilbo, a desperation in his eyes, “It’s making me think things I would never dream of. Of killing, of gold.”

As Bilbo shuddered, Vorin continued, “I am a weaver by craft, gold and silver hold nothing for me, yet, yet it makes me see terrible things just to get the gold in the treasury. It has al-already affected everyone. Adad, his brother, and even Amad and Reya, though they would never admit it. I see the way everyone looks at the gold. It’s madness.”

He hadn’t noticed it any Lady Dreya or Reya. He had no way of knowing if what Vorin said was even true. But it still did not make sense.

“Why come to me?”

Vorin shrugged, “Because everyone trusts you.”

Bilbo looked at Vorin doubtfully, “I could take this stone to them right now. Tell thorin you have it,”

Vorin shook his head confidently, “But you would not.”

Crossing his arms, Bilbo glared down the dwarf, “How are you so sure of that?”

For a moment, Vorin did not speak. He fiddled with his fingers, looking anywhere but at Bilbo. As Bilbo continued to glare, he gave up and said, “I overheard you and Fili talking. I know that you are Thorin’s husband.”

Bilbo’s brain was constantly telling him that it was not a good thing. If Vorin knew, he could tell Frerin, who could demand it from Thorin, which would lead to Thrain and the whole mountain to know. Their behavior could not be predicted in such a case. They could kick Thorin out, maybe. They could kick Bilbo out.

While all of that went on in Bilbo’s head, he remained extremely still outside.

“I care not for these matters,” Vorin hurriedly added, “For I still do not understand the idea. But I know that you love him, and for your sake, you would never bring him harm. I am scared, and I am very worried, and I don’t know what to do, and, and... ”

“Okay, okay,” Bilbo said, breaking out of his overloading head, “Vorin, I need you to breathe for me, all right? Deep breaths, just like that. Yes, very good. You are doing very well. Now, we are going to sit and do something wise about this.”

Vorin nodded. Both he and Bilbo settled down on the floor, breathing deeply. It seemed to help Vorin, and it helped bilbo well enough. Now that the matter was getting clearer in his head, all that Bilbo could think was- the matter was extremely messed up.

“This stone can’t stay in the mountain,” Vorin finally said, his hand in the pocket, “I am afraid that it does it will continue to influence everyone.”

Bilbo couldn’t help but agree with that. “Do you trust anyone who would take care of the stone? Make sure it doesn’t hurt anyone.”

Vorin nodded, “Bard.”


	26. take all that you give me (For good or for worse)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Allow me to say- I am sorry :(  
> Trigger warning applicable for this chapter

The Armory was lit by a few torches. Something was going on in every corner. Rows and rows of weapons, that had been quiet for so long, were clanking under the noise of excitement.

Thorin picked up a mithril shirt, running his hands through the chain-mail. It was so light, almost like a cotton shirt, or even a feather. It was precious beyond measure. The Mines of Moria were lost to the Dwarrows, and thus every remaining strand of mithril was extremely important.

The Mithril shirt belonged to a King.

The sound of footsteps broke Thorin out of his thoughts. His eyes landed on a solitary figure at the end of the corridor. Shorter than every other dwarf, different from all.

The mithril belonged to someone precious.

There was no one more precious to him than his One.

“Bilbo, come here.”

His husband waited just a moment, before making his way to Thorin. He himself couldn’t help taking a step forward, just to greet Bilbo away from the crowd behind him.

Bilbo was giving him a raised eyebrow, his eyes raking all over his body. It was probably the first time Bilbo was seeing him in proper armor. Even if he could say so himself, he looked good.

But he truly couldn't let Bilbo know that. Thorin glared at him playfully, “I hope your mind is not going anywhere doubtful.”

“I am flattered,” Bilbo rolled his eyes, before eyeing the shirt in his hand, “What is this?”

Thorin smiled, pushing it towards him, “Put it on. You will need it.”

Bilbo obliged, and Thorin went on to explain, “This vest is made of silver steel. ' _ Mithril' _ it was called by my forebears. No blade can pierce it. And as you can feel, lighter than anything.”

Once having pulled down the shirt, Bilbo looked at it and blinked.

“I look absurd,” Bilbo said pointedly.

“You look beautiful,” Thorin said softly.

Bilbo merely glared at him, “We really need to talk about your jewel fetishes.”

To his surprise, Thorin let out a burst of loud laughter. That earned him a lot of stares, but he ignored it in favor of watching a smile spread on Bilbo’s face. It had been a long time since he had seen Bilbo smile like that. His husband had shouldered the worries of Erebor as much as any dwarf. Almost as a Consort would. But Bilbo was not made for such politics and nonsense, and it had inevitably taken a toll on him. 

“Think of it as a courting gift,” he said just loud enough, earning enough pauses from a few dwarrows, “A Provider’s gift.”

Bilbo looked scandalized, before pulling Thorin away from the others, “Are you purposefully trying to start a riot?” he hissed.

Thorin frowned, “I thought you would be glad.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, the Dwarves of Erebor do not actually like me.”

“Nonsense,” Thorin snorted, “You are just an acquired taste.”

Bilbo opened his mouth to argue, before closing it and realizing what Thorin had said. He gave him the best glare. Thorin just smiled innocently. After a moment, Bilbo let go of the losing fight and shook his head.

“Anyways,” Bilbo cleared his throat, “The weapons you gave me counted as courting gifts.”

“Both of which are lost in the Misty Mountains.”

“Accidents happen.”

“Indeed,” Thorin said darkly, looking around at the Dwarrows preparing for battle, “I need you to be careful, Bilbo. Of everyone.”

To that, Bilbo frowned, “What?”

He was not to be blamed. Bilbo trusted easy and fast unless someone gave him a reason to contrary. He was not naive, but rather unaware of the thoughts that passed through a Dwarrows' mind. He did not know how greedy and vile some of his kind could be.

“I am betrayed,” Thorin said, his mind fixed on the lost jewel, “The Arkenstone. One of the Dwarves has taken it.”

Bilbo took in a deep breath, before turning to Thorin. “Dear, the quest is done. You have your home back, you have found your family. Is that not enough?”

Thorin, however, was barely paying attention to Bilbo’s words. He knew that Bilbo would just try to make him see the good side of things, but sometimes the betrayal lay heavier than anything else. “I have been betrayed. We, Durins, have been betrayed by who once promised to follow us.”

“Wha-no,” Bilbo shook his head, placing his hands on Thorin’s shoulders and turning so that he could face Bilbo, “Thorin, are you actually saying that someone from the  _ Company _ has betrayed you?”

“Anything is plausible, Bilbo,” Thorin growled, “It’s our gold. Ours.”

“And what of the men?” Bilbo asked, breathless, “You promised something. We promised it, I think you will remember. What of our honor?”

“Honor?” Thorin huffed, “From them? I know the hearts of men. They have nothing in the treasure of this mountain. I will not part with a single coin, not for them.”

Bilbo shuddered, “Thorin, think of the trade. Or, or-”

“Bilbo,” Thorin cut him harshly, before smiling softly and cupping his cheeks, “Trust me  _ ghivashel _ . Frerin and I agree- those men are foul.”

He did not seem to believe him. But Bilbo had not seen the hardships. He had not seen the torture men inflicted upon cheap labor. He had not seen how cruel the men could be to their own kind. Thorin had, and he knew no matter how noble this Bard was, he was a man.

Shaking his head, Thorin pulled back. Bilbo looked aghast at the mere idea. Thorin did not have the time to explain it to him. But he could spare a moment.

“Is everything all right?” he finally asked, “You said you had something to talk to me about when we met earlier.”

Bilbo looked up, blinking owlishly, “I- yes. There is something. Something important.”

Thorin looked expectantly as Bilbo opened his mouth. But then he closed it, pondering.

“Yes?”

“I am worried,” Bilbo said slowly, “About, about Fili. And, and the land around. I know, the two don’t make sense, but well...”

“Fili is a trained warrior, and he will hold his best,” Thorin said, “As for the land, we can talk of it after the battle. All right?”

Once Bilbo nodded, and Thorin was sure everything was all right, he went off trying to find his brother. They had strategies to discuss.

* * *

Thing was, Bilbo was going to tell Thorin. He had made up his mind about informing his Husband of the pregnancy. It would have brought joy at the very least, and perhaps some carefulness.

But as Bilbo heard Thorin talk, of betrayal, of his madness- he did not want his child to know a Thorin who was a mere shadow of the dwarf Bilbo had fallen in love with. It was foolish, truly. The babe would not be due for months- If they came, his traitorous mind reminded him- and till then things could happen. Yet, Bilbo couldn’t bring himself to tell Thorin. It felt wrong, extremely.

So he watched Thorin go away, and left the armory wearing chain-mail gifted to him by his Husband. He walked out, sharing just a glance with Vorin before walking away.

It was close to midnight that he finally snuck out to the rampart. The soldiers were many, including Dwalin and Kiri, but Bilbo had the advantage of being light on the foot. He managed to sneak around the few scattered dwarrows to make it to the very outpost.

The plan was simple- he would get out from the front while Vorin would take one of the many tunnels which connected Erebor to Dale. The tunnels were too damp and dark for Bilbo, so he had decided to make his escape from the way they had come inside. Climbing down was perhaps not the best idea, but still. It was easier than any other alternative.

As soon as he reached the top, Bilbo began to tie the rope to one of the many pillars. One thing he had to credit the dwarves for was the indigenous thinking. Every pillar had rings for ropes and chandeliers. In its full glory, Erebor would surely be a sight to behold.

“You should be inside.”

Bilbo jumped at the sudden voice, turning only to find Bofur looking at him with a smile, “Out of the wind.”

Spluttering, Bilbo hid the rope and said, “No, I, uh, I needed air. It’s too stuffy inside.”

Bofur smiled, seemingly agreeing with him. He kicked back the rope, making sure to hide it completely. Not to say that he did not trust Bofur, but in the end, he was one of the Dwarrows.

As he walked over, Bilbo found himself looking over the city of Dale.

“The archers have been moving into position,” Bofur said, coming to stand beside Bilbo, looking over to the city himself, “The Battle should be over by Tomorrow’s Eve.”

Bilbo shuddered. A battle. Those were things that he read about in his storybooks. Things that were important to men and Elves and Dwarves, not Hobbits. No matter how adventurous he was, fighting was not something he ever dreamt of seeing.

A strong gush of cold air wrapped around him. Bilbo shivered, drawing his arms around him. Winter was upon them. His most dreaded season.

It was fitting- a battle in Winter. It was the bane of his existence. What else would it take from him...

“All right there, Bilbo?”

Bilbo whimpered. He wanted to lie, to say yes. Bofur would not push. He would smile and let Bilbo be. The matter would be buried, his dark thoughts forgotten.

“My father died in winter,” said Bilbo, before he truly realized what he was saying, “My mother followed the next winter. I lost two, very dear to me, in winters that came. And I am afraid, so afraid Bofur, that I will lose someone close to me this winter too.”

Bofur, for his part, said nothing, and for that Bilbo was extremely glad. He laid a hand on his back and Bilbo relished the touch. Dark days indeed. He could lose Thorin the coming day, he could lose his child like before.

He could lose the whole Company.

“Nobody would bother you for wishing yourself somewhere away,” Bofur finally said, “Especially not with your condition.”

Bilbo stiffened, not daring to look over. Bofur pulled back, still not looking at him, “I was there when you were talking to Ori. Not the lad’s fault. I think it would be wise to be away from the battle. Gandalf is in the town of men, last I heard.”

With a last smile, Bofur turned and said, “Bombur’s on the next watch. It will take a while to wake him up. The guards stationed nearby won’t bother a lot.”

As he began to walk down, Bilbo turned and found himself saying, “Bofur. I will see you in the morning.”

The way Bofur smiled, he did not believe Bilbo. “Goodbye, Bilbo. Take care of yourself.”

Bilbo waited, till Bofur was out of sight. His chest constricted in pain. The thought that it could be the last time...Shaking the very idea out of his head, Bilbo took a deep breath. No, nothing of that sort would happen. He would see everyone again. He had to.

* * *

The sight that greeted Bilbo when he reached Dale was not a very good one. The Men and Elves were all getting ready for battle. Tweens who should have to do nothing with battle were moving their sword around. It was almost a mirror image of the happenings of the Mountain.

But what truly angered him was the sight of Elves clutching Vorin from both sides, presenting him in front of Thranduil.

“Unhand him. Now.”

The Elvenking looked at Bilbo with a raised eyebrow. He was sitting on a makeshift throne. Gandalf stood nearby, seemingly have been saying the same thing. So was Bard, it seemed.

“And why should I listen to you, Halfling?” Thranduil asked pointedly.

Bilbo huffed,, looking at the two Elvish guards and then back at Thranduil, “Because I snuck out the Company of Thorin Oakenshield once under your very nose, and I can do it again. Having such a thing done twice would not do wonders for your or your security’s reputation.”

Thranduil did not look amused, but Bard and Gandalf were trying hard to hide their chuckles. Even Vorin seemed to fight a smile. Bilbo stared down Thranduil, though his own heart was racing quite quickly.

The Elvenking stared at Bilbo for another moment, before he waved his hand. The two guards immediately unhanded the young dwarf. Vorin staggered but was immediately helped by Bard to stand straight.

“You all right, my friend?” he asked, concerned.

The two Elvish soldiers walked out in unison. Bilbo looked at them go, and couldn’t help but wonder if they were always perfectly in sync. It was unreal.

Vorin nodded and smiled, before turning to Bilbo, “Thank you for coming.”

Bilbo hummed, looking at him softly, “I said I was. You are far too young to be handling all this nonsense.”

“And you are an Elder of great reverence, I believe?” Thranduil asked with a raised eyebrow.

Bilbo huffed, arms by his side, “Just because Hobbits live shortest does not mean we are stupid. At least we do not hold old grudges for years.”

That was a bold faced lie, but no one other than Gandaf knew that. The old coot was wise enough not to mention a word, but he did interject immediately. By coughing loudly.

“Now, not that I am not extremely happy to see you, my friend,” Gandalf said, looking down at Bilbo, “But what exactly are you doing here? You should be resting.”

“I am not injured, Gandalf,” Bilbo said irritatedly, before looking at Vorin. The younger dwarf nodded, before pulling out the Arkenstone.

The effect was immediate. The Elvenking looked like he had received a Birthday gift. Gandalf looked shocked, and even somewhat worried. Bard, however, was most surprised as Vorin pressed the stone in his hands.

“This is the Arkenstone, the King’s jewel,” Vorin explained, “I need you to keep it safe.”

Bard blinked, “Why to give it to me, Vorin?”

“Because you are a good man, Bard,” Vorin said, pulling back slightly and looking over at Thranduil and Gandalf, “That stone is mesmerizing, and not something that should be held by the Durins as of now. We have bigger matters to handle.”

Bard shook his head, watching the stone in his hand in fascination, “You have far too much trust in me, friend.

“No,” Vorin said with a soft smile, “I just know that you are a good man. That you will not use it for something else.”

Bard smiled gratefully, and Vorin smiled back. The two shared a moment, but Gandalf cleared his throat just at the moment, earning a glare from almost everyone in the camp.

“But this is extremely good,” he said cheerfully, “We can use this stone as a bargaining chip.”

“I am not giving away the stone, wizard,” Vorin said hauntingly, “I am giving it for safekeeping.”

“My Prince, listen to me,” Gandalf said slowly, his age reflecting in his words, “The Durins would pay a good price for the stone. It could potentially stop any need for the battle. Thorin and Thrain would pay all the needs of Men and Elves just for this. Only, if you agree that is.”

Vorin looked owlishly at Gandalf. The old wizard continued to smile softly at him, but it only served to confuse Vorin more. He looked at Bard, who shrugged helplessly. When he turned to Bilbo, the Hobbit said, “Now, Gandalf, don’t be absurd. It is not a bargaining chip, remember.”

It was Thranduil who spoke up next, eyes fixed on the stone. “But we can make it. For the first time since your arrival Mithrandir, you are talking sense.”

Bilbo huffed, looking at Vorin, “You don’t have to agree to this.”

Vorin shook his head, looking confused, “Will it prevent war, though? Could it be possible?”

“Is it a chance,” answered Gandalf.

He turned to Bilbo, “Do you think it’s a good idea?”

Bilbo opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked at the young face and smiled softly, “It, it can work, but you are under no obligation.”

“Am I not?” he said sadly, “I took the stone. If it can be of any good use, I am willing to do it. Bard,” he turned to the man, looking firm, “Put the stone in the chest box and think of bartering it with all. The chest has treasures that belong to Durin’s line. It would help your case.”

“Are you sure, Vorin?” Bard asked, “the matters are already sour.”

“Well you can’t make it worse, can you?” Vorin asked pointedly, “and if it comes to that, I will take the blame.”

Nobody looked happy at that idea. Even the Elf looked uncomfortable. But Vorin spoke with as much authority as the other Durins.

That was the end of that conversation. As Thranduil and Bard began ti plan things out, Gandalf led Vorin and Bilbo out. His advice for both of them was to run away, but nether hobbit, nor the dwarf actually agreed to the plan. They had a family in the mountain. With a battle coming close, they weren’t going to abandon anyone.

But Gandalf was insistent. He continued to speak of how poor a position Vorin could land in due to his decision and how Bilbo’s health was more important.

“Think of the baby, Bilbo.”

“The baby will be fine,” Bilbo said shortly.

“It won’t if you harm your body.”

“Stop it Gandalf!”

Bilbo truly did not have the energy to actually deal with the thoughts. A year ago, maybe, Bilbo would have happily sat down and talked of what having a baby could entail. Plan things out, prepare a baby room. But with the literal matter of life and death in his hands, and the loss of past two cases had left him quite numb.

Gandalf did not push further, but he did ask both Vorin and Bilbo to stay the night. Traveling back through the tunnels would be sick, and if they tried to walk in straight anybody could spot them. On one hand, Bilbo was also tired and he would not mind some hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Once inside a small room, Bilbo turned to Vorin to plan an escape for the next day. But Vorin had a different question in his mind.

“You’re pregnant.” He declared.

“Yes,” Bilbo nodded.

“But you are male.” Vorin pointed out, “How?”

Bilbo shrugged. He was far too tired to talk about it, “Took oddity.”

“All right.” Vorin remained quiet, before asking, “But how.”

“You do know how babies are made right?” Bilbo asked pointedly.

Vorin shrugged, “Adad told me once.”

“Well then, the same way.”

“But...”

At his wits’ end, Bilbo said, “Unless you want to hear the intricacies of Thorin and mine’s relationship...”

“No please no!”

“Good.”

There was a moment of silence, before,

“But how will you birth the babe.”

Bilbo looked down at his flat stomach. Pressing his hands and closing his eyes, Bilbo let out a staggering breath, “Honestly, Vorin, I have no idea.”

* * *

Morning came, and with morning came armies at the gates of Erebor. One one side, high up inside the Mountain, stood King Thrain. His sons stood on either side of him, all three dressed in royal armor. It reflected their wealth quite well, even if it was scattered. Beside them stood the other members of the family, members of the Company, all ready to fight.

Down below stood the men and Elves. The Elf sat on his elk, the Man on his horse. Behind them, The Elvish army stood in perfect unison.

The talks started with Thrain taunting them. An arrow landed between the two leaders, followed by childish words. It was going well, with just random taunts, and Thorin looking east every once in a while.

All hell broke loose when Bard pulled out the Arkenstone from his pocket. Everyone was shouting, and the loudest among them was that of Frerin.

“Whoever gave you that stone will meet death by my own hands!”

At the farthest corner of the rampart stood Vorin and Bilbo. They had snuck in early, careful to ignore eyes of Dwarrows. Nobody had noticed their distance. When Frerin spoke up, Vorin shuddered at his father’s voice. He was close to crying when Bilbo stood in front.

“I gave him the stone.”

The Company, the heirs of Durin, and the guards turned to look at him. He hated the attention, but Bilbo’s eyes were fixed on Thorin.

Thorin, who refused to look at him.

“You?” he finally said, turning his eyes to him. Bilbo had to hold his ground strongly. The glare, the betrayal, the anger that he saw in his husband’s eyes, was enough to break his heart.

“I took it as my 14th share of the treasure,” spinning lies to spare Vorin, looking still at Thorin, though Thrain looked ready to kill him.

“How dare you?” Frerin demanded, his hands shaking, “You helped my brother and his company, and now you betray us?”

“A halfling,” spat Tharin, the hammer in his hands looking ready to strike, “You are no better than men or elves.”

“You dare steal from me?” demanded Thorin, and Bilbo’s breath hitched.

“Steal from you?” he asked, shaking his head, “No.”

Thorin stormed as Bilbo began speaking again, “I was going to give it to you but...”

“But what, thief?” demanded Frerin.

But Bilbo’s eyes were fixed on Thorin’s and Thorin was listening to him.

“You are changed, Thorin,” Bilbo said, ignoring every single dwarf in existence. He looked at Thorin and Thorin alone. “The dwarf I knew would have never gone back on his word, would never have doubted the loyalty of his Company!”

“Do not speak to me of loyalty,” spat Thorin. Bilbo flinched as if Thorin had slapped him. Bilbo watched in shock as Thorin stepped up to him, his eyes blazing in fury. He was not sure what to expect. A hit on the head? A sword through his chest? Frerin and Thrain did look ready to maul him with their hammers.

Thorin did none of that. He walked until he was standing nose to nose with Bilbo, and for the first time in his life, Bilbo was afraid of him.

With his heart beating fast in his chest, Bilbo did not even notice as Thorin reached deep into his armor and pulled out something. It was only when something cold and small dropped in Bilbo’s hands that he realized what had just happened.

“Thorin...”

But Thorin had turned, his eyes not looking at him anymore. Somebody shouted, and Bilbo was vaguely aware of somebody lifting him and dangling him over the rampart. It was Frerin, Bilbo realized, but he could not care if he fell to his death right then, for the weight in his hands was heavier than the weight of the mountain.

Bilbo heard Gandalf, he heard him belittling Frerin and Thrain and Thorin. Bilbo followed none of it as Bofur grabbed him and tried to send him away.

But he stood frozen behind Thorin, his heart beating faster. “Thorin, you are not this dwarf.”

Thorin said nothing. Bofur kept trying to usher Bilbo as Gandalf held the other two’s attention.

“I banish you,” said Thorin, his back still turned to Bilbo, “I banish you from this kingdom and my life.”

The air stilled. The noise ceased. The land beneath his feet shook and Bilbo felt the world go dark as Thorin refused to face him.

“Bilbo, come back!”

Gandalf's voice brought back memories of the night before and he immediately reached for his stomach. With one last look at the back of his husband- or ex-husband, maybe - Bilbo climbed down the gates of Erebor.

Opening his hands, Bilbo looked at the wooden bead. It truly held no meaning. Beads were lost or misplaced, and technically nothing could break them apart. But Bilbo was no fool. He knew what the giving back of bead indicated.

Closing his eyes tightly, Bilbo allowed himself to be moved around by the wizard. With every passing moment, all Bilbo could feel was despair.

He should have never come to the mountain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do not kill me eep!


	27. Follow you into the battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drama my old friend. This chapter has been a fucking ride, I shit you not.

The help came from the east. Dain Ironfoot with his army. The Dwarves rejoiced, except Thorin. His mind was relaying with betrayal. Betrayal with one he had thought could never do anything. Yet there he stood, alone.

His One had betrayed him.

At least he had his mountain. His gold. Bilbo Baggins could go and, and...

Thorin growled, ignoring the shouts. He could not even wish the worse upon that Hobbit.

All his life, he had been alone. At first too young to actually be listened. Then alone at dealing with men. Alone when he finally became King.

It was not until when he entered the Shire, one fine day, working in the smithy, that a young Hobbit had come with a set of gardening tools that Thorin finally felt complete. Scaring him was fun, and once he had run away, Thorin had smiled to himself.

Burglar, he had called him. He was a burglar of Thorin’s heart. Young, he was though, and Thorin was not going to do anything to a child.

But then he learnt, Bilbo was not a child. He had reached his majority. Yet, he was annoying and childish. His every barb, and irritation only served to fuel Thorin’s adoration for him. It was on a random day in the Smithy when Thorin was mending a few pots, and Bilbo was making notes of the business of the day that Thorin realized, oh, he had found his One.

To think that Hobbit had betrayed Thorin. How could he, how could he give away something so precious to thorin? Did he not know? Or did he not care?

So lost in thought was Thorin that he did not hear the words of his father shouting, “Orcs! Attack! Retreat, all of you!”

“But lord Thrain...”

“Frerin! Thorin! Get inside!”

“Are we not going to fight?”

“I will not let those scums destroy the line of Durin! Fall back!”

Thorin let himself be led away, and he went back. He let himself be led away, to halls from one to another, until he, Thrain and Frerin stood in the throne room.

“We should be safe here,” Thrain said, ushering both Frerin and Thorin inside, “Stand guard! No one comes in or goes out! Close the doors!”

* * *

Fili watched in shock as the doors of the throne room shut in front of him.

“What is he doing?” Reya demanded, looking at his mother, “We have an army! We can help!”

Dreya shook her head, “Lord Thrain has made it clear what he thinks of it.”

“And what of Adad?” demanded Reya.

“He was more interested in the gold,” shuddered Dreya.

“Thorin?” Fili asked, slowly coming to his senses.

“I think he is still trying to come to terms with Bilbo’s betrayal,” Balin said softly.

Fili blinked. Bilbo betrayal...did not feel like a betrayal at all. Truth be told, he was not sure what had followed in the moments leading up that morning. They had been preparing for battle, then their heirloom was stolen, and suddenly Bilbo was being banished.

It was far too quick.

Reya let out a frustrated noise, before turning around and walking away. Fili, Kili and Vorin followed, through the empty corridors of Erebor. None knew what to say. The Durins had turned their back to their own people.

It was Vorin who spoke up, softly and scared, “We have to go to battle.”

“Sign’adad and idad have refused,” said Fili, frustrated, “We cannot go out.”

“So what?” demanded Kili, “We sit back and let them die?”

“Cousin Dain is smart,” Fili said weakly, though he hardly trusted the words.

“But it’s not enough,” Reya said softly.

“No dwarf will leave the mountain unless Uncle agrees,” Fili said softly, the reality dawning on him, and looking bleaker by every passing second.

“This is madness!” Vorin shouted, “What about Bilbo?”

Reya shook her head, “His betrayal is great, he wouldn’t be spared.”

“No! He did not do it!”

Vorin’s declaration greeted him with silence. All the other three turned to look at him in confusion.

“What?” Kili finally asked.

“He did not give the Arkenstone to Bard, I did!”

Reya blinked, looking at her brother in confusion, “Vorin, whatever are you saying!”

“Only the truth Reya.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because it’s driving you mad? it’s driving us all mad!”

“Don’t be absurd!” Kili said defensively.

“Absurd?” Vorin spat, “You are lying, Kili, if you haven’t felt the pull of gold.”

Kili didn’t open his mouth. He had been feeling the pull of gold, he had admitted such to Fili just the day before. The two brothers shared a glance as Vorin continued, “My hands were made for threads, not those gold, yet here I am, craving for that. This is wrong, and the Arkenstone only made it worse.”

Nobody said a word as Vorin looked down, desperate. The new knowledge, burdened with the happening of the mornings only served to make the minds of young Dwarves swirl more. Finally, Reya whispered, “if Adad finds out, he will kill you.”

“It was not Bilbo.” Vorin said desperately, “And he needs our help. In his condition- I should have owned up. Oh mahal, what have I done?”

Vorin’s distress confused everyone, more Fili than others. He felt the shame of failing Bilbo on the ramparts, especially after he had promised that he would take care of him.

“What do you mean, his condition?” Fili asked pointedly, “What is wrong with Bilbo?”

Vorin looked up, muttering. Fili shook his head, looking directly in his eyes.

“Bilbo’s expecting a child,” Vorin said softly, “He confirmed it.”

The corridor was pulled into silence. Everyone looked at Vorin is disbelief, but no felt the guilt and shame that rushed through Fili’s head. Bilbo was expecting...he was to be a father. A mother? Mahal, he was to be a parent. And in such a condition, he was banished.

He was into a battle.

“But how is that possible?” Reya demanded, “Is he not a male.”

“Took Oddity, he had said.”

“Mahal!” Fili cried out, clutching his head. Bilbo was possibly out in battle with a child. Was he safe? Was he fighting? Did Thorin know?

He turned to Kili, his eyes widened, “Kili, we need to get out! Bilbo, we cannot leave Bilbo out there! He is our Idad. You and I, we claimed him as our kin! We, Kili, We-”

“Fili,” Kili said sternly, “I need you to breathe. Everything will be fine. The babe-”

“I don’t care about the babe!” Fili said harshly, “No, No I do! But Bilbo! It’s a battle out there. We need to save him. I can’t....it’s Bilbo.”

By the time Fili stopped, his voice was a mere whisper. Somehow the prospect of losing Bilbo seemed like the harshest possible thing he could endure. Bilbo was...he was...he was his Idad.

“We need to fight,” Fili said brokenly, “Not just for Bilbo, but for our kingdom. Our people. They have lost their battle to the gold sickness, we haven’t. Not yet. We cannot just sit here and do nothing!”

“What you are saying is treason.” Reya pointed out.

“Who are we loyal to Reya, our father or our people?” demanded Fili, “How do we wear this batch of royalty, by serving the people or obeying the King? Is all of this not for the people?”

“Yes,” Reya said softly.

“We need to fight.” Vorin agreed, “If for nothing else, I owe my life to Bilbo right now. I cannot sit here and wait!”

Reya shook her head, “But the ways are blocked. They will know if we attempt to go out. We will need to sneak out.”

Too that, Kili shared a grin with Fili, “Great for you, Fili and I are masters in that.”

* * *

Outside the throne room, Dwalin, Balin, Reya and Kiri stood aghast. The soldiers were murmuring. The Company looked tired. Nobody knew who to blame, or what to say.

To turn away from a battle, to turn to cowardice was the most shameful of act ever. Yet disobeying the King, or rather, Kings, was treason of highest kind. The royal advisors and commanders understood this dual thought well enough. They were born and bred warriors, even Balin who had seen most wars. Old he might be getting, but he was not stupid.

There was no communication from inside the throne room, but Balin hardly dared to think of that. Thrain was mad- madder than anybody else. Nothing was worse than thinking one sane when they had lost their wits.

The silence of the room was broken by a pair of footsteps. Balin looke dup to find Fili and Kili making their way to Balin.

“Any news?” asked Fili, out of breath.

Dwalin grunted. Balin shook his head, “Not a peep.”

“We can’t sit like this,” said Kili, looking at all in front of him, “We need to charge.”

“And go against the wishes of our King?”

Fili looked at Kiri with hardened eyes, “I would rather commit treason than be a coward.”

He turned his attention to all four of them, and a few handful of soldiers outside, including the Company members, “They are sick. It’s not their fault, but whatever decision they make right now is not being made with thought and practicality. A war is going out there- a war being fought for our mountain. Would you sit and wait until those orcs are crawling inside Erebor?”

There were murmurs of agreement, and Fili knew he had won the argument. He looked at the four advisors, all aghast.

“They have all collectively agreed, laddie,” Balin said softly, “They hold the power.”

Fili stood straight, shaking his head, “One thing that Thorin has always taught me is that my people come first, everyone else second. As his heir, I might not have the power to command the army of Erebor, but I do have the support fo the Company, aye?”

The remaining members of the Company stood tall, each with a weapon in their hand. Fili looked at the nodding, “You all followed Thorin Oakenshield to a quest, but now, I am asking you to follow me to a battle. Do you support me?”

There were no cheers, but nods and murmurs were enough. Fili turned to Dwlain and Balin, saying softly, “Do you support me?”

It was Dwalin who grunted, picking up his axe, “Of course I do. Can’t believe you are the same sprog that ran off because axes were too heavy.”

“Or the one who ran away to catch frogs,” Balin said with a quiet laugh. As Fili rolled his eyes, Balin said, “Prepare the equipment, make plans. I will handle Thorin.”

“And what of others?”

Kiri’s voice shook the Company out of their review. She stood tall, looking at the Company with scrutiny, “You are now a part of the mountain. You cannot decide to work on your own, lad.”

“DO you support what is going on, then?” Kili demanded, “Do you support any of it?”

“He is my king.”

“Irrelevant,” Fili said strongly, before turning to Dreya, “We tried, did we not? Reya agrees, and we are talking, she and Vorin are rallying the support of soldiers on the other side. We will not move unless we have your support, but you must see how wrong this is.”

For the longest moment, Dreya did not speak. Kiri turned to her with a questioning glance, and every eye was fixed on her.

“I will not betray my King,” she finally said, “But he has not given me any power. I will stand by his side. What others get to is no knowledge of my own.”

Kiri snorted in disbelief, “You can’t be serious.”

Dreya looked at her, her face set in motion, “I am very serious Kiri.”

* * *

Unknown to all, Thrain had led Thorin and Frerin away from the throne room to his rooms. Thorin had let himself be led away, while Frerin was continuously talking to stuffing the gold.

Once they were secure inside the room, Thrain bolted the door, looking around in worry.

“The walls are secure here,” he muttered, “The secret passageways...they are buried. Orcs should not be able to get in, aye?”

“most tunnels have collapsed,” Frerin informs him, going through the mental tally of gold. Thrain nodded, unaware of newer tunnels that had been dug to connect Dale and Erebor.

Thorin remained non-verbal as Frerin stood up, going through mental calculations.

“We ought to place soldiers around gold,” he said, “hide all the treasure in the deepest part of the mountain. Not mines, because orcs can go there, but somewhere which they never reach to.”

“A place well hidden,” Thrain agreed, “Somewhere where all can hide from those filths. Forges, perhaps.”

“Old settlement might work too. Houses are empty, we can let soldiers take the gold and stuff it there. It’s the centre of the mountain.”

Thrain nodded, clearly happy with how the plan was going, “We shall take a house. Just stay there until this ends. It ought to finish sooner or later, aye?”

“Yes, of course,” Frerin nodded, “We will need to go out to give directions to soldiers-”

“no!” Thrain shook his head, pushing Frerin back on the bed. Thorin slowly stood up, walking up the dresser as Thrain said, “No we cannot go out! Instruct others! You two will have to remain safe. Remain quiet! No, you are not going out.”

Frerin frowned, shaking his head. “But the gold, Adad! We need to protect jewels! What, what if someone takes it? I need to be there!”

“The orcs would get to you!” hissed Thrain, “No, absolutely not!”

“But Thorin and I need to protect the gold!” Frerin said again, “It’s more precious than anything else. Lives can be lost, but that treasure...it’s ours. We cannot let it go to waste. Thorin, you agree, aye?”

Thorin’s back was turned to father and son. Thrain turned, glaring at Thorin’s back, “No, boy. You are not going out. I refuse.”

“We have turned into him.”

His voice was barely above a whisper. Yet both Frerin and Thrain heard Thorin’s voice break in the room. They watched him breathe in and out deeply.

“What inudoy?”

* * *

“Don’t you see?” Thorin whispered, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the dresser, “We are turning into Thror.”

The gold inlaid on the dresser was mocking him. The dragon swirled in the reflective metal like it was swimming in the treasure of Erebor. It was stretching out and curling around Thorin’s hands like vines. No matter how hard he yanked, his hands were bound by the weight of gold.

“Adad?” Thrain asked quizzically, “He was a great King. He brought prosperity to Erebor.”

Thorin chuckled humorlessly, eyes wide as he looked at the darkened mirror in front. The shadow of Thror looked back. He haunted him, as he always had. The eyes of a mad King.

“He brought ruin upon us,” said Thorin, turning back slowly, “He brought Smaug to our home. He led us into a massacre. And all the while, the only thing he cared about was his gold.”

Frerin blinked, looking confusedly, “Grandfather? What?”

“You were too young,” Thorin sighed, “Did you never wonder why Smaug came to our kingdom, and not any other?”

“Because we were prosperous, and that beast was greedy.”

“None more so greedy than Thror,” Thorin sneered, looking down at his own hands, “Mahal, what have we become? No. No, I refuse to be the ghost that has haunted me all my life. I am not my grandfather. I am not him. And neither are you.”

Thrain made an irritated noise, “Of course we are not. Adad was Adad, and we are we. What does it matter now?”

“It matters,” he said loudly, pulling away the cloak he had worn with pride. It was no more than a reminder of his past, a reminder of the beginning of the worse of his existence, “No. I refuse to value gold more than the lives of my people. I refuse to...to hold a stone above my ghivashel. I cannot do that.”

“Your ghivashel?” Frerin sneered, “You mean the Halfling? The one that stole from you?”

Thorin looked up thundering. His stormy eyes landed on Frerin, and the Golden King staggered. “His name is Bilbo,” Thorin growled, “And you will treat him with respect.”

“He betrayed you!” Thrain shouted, shaking.

Thorin shook his head, “No, if he did that he must have had a reason. I, I need to talk to him. I need to talk to Bilbo. Now.”

“He is not in the mountain,” reminded Frerin, “ran away like a coward, remember.”

“Bilbo Baggins is anything but a COWARD!”

Both Thrain and Frerin took a step back. Thorin clasped his hands in a fist, shaking his head. “Be careful of how you speak to him. If you shall not give him respect, do not dare pull his name through the mud.”

The two dwarves looked in wonder as Thorin shook his head as if throwing away an invisible burden off his shoulders.

“If he is out there, fighting my battles, then I am not going to leave him alone.”

“No!”

Thrain voice rang in the room. He marched up to Thorin, shorter than his son but his glare levelling more fury and fear than before, “I refuse! You are not going out Thorin!.”

“You cannot stop me, Adad,” Thorin said seriously.

Huffing, Thrain said, “I very well can! I forbid it! Am I not the King of Erebor?”

There was a beat of silence, as Thorin and Thrain locked gaze. Frerin looked owlishly at the two Dwarves, unable to follow the course of words.

“Forgive me for my impudence, Adad, but you are not my King.”

Thrain looked as if he had been slapped. Thorin looked back squarely, sparing his gaze to Frerin as well, “And neither are you, nadad. I owe my allegiance the people who I have ruled upon, and the ones who dared to follow me on this turbulent quest.”

Without another glance, Thorin turned and walked out of the room, leaving behind his father and brother. He had another family, and he needed to make sure that they were all right.

* * *

Reya and Fili had assembled the ones who dared to go against the King. There were not many- mostly the ones who were either too young to properly remember Smaug’s destruction or those who actually could think on their own. Their numbers weren’t many, but they were just enough.

“Vorin must have taken the tunnel which leads him to Dale,” Reya was saying, pointing to the official map, “These are some of the others exits.”

“According to Bombur the orcs are surrounding the armies from all sides,” Fili said, “If we can get to the outskirts perhaps we can limit them.”

“Even then their numbers would be too great. Our strength is our surprise.”

“Indeed,” came a deep voice. Fili and Reya looked up in unison, their eyes widening as they realized Thorin had entered the room, Balin and Dwlain following behind him.

Fili let go of his surprise immediately, standing straight in front of Thorin, “You will not stop us, Idad.”

Thorin looked at him, deep blue eyes boring into his soul. His body was barred of any fancy armour- he had the simplest garb of a soldier. When Thorin dropped his hands on Fili’s shoulder, he shuddered a bit. But Thorin’s smile was genuine.

“I have made a grave mistake,” he said, boring into Fili’s eyes, before turning to look at his Company, “I have no right to ask you of this. But our friends are fighting our battles out there. If you will follow us, one last time.”

There was no verbal response, but every member of the Company rose their weapons in unison. Fili smiled gratefully. Thorin smiled back, pulling their heads close.

When they pulled back, from somewhere in the crowd Kili barged into Thorin, sending him off his balance. Thorin quickly recovered, patting his younger nephew with adoration. When they pulled back, Kili was grinning.

“I knew you would snap out of it!”

Thorin merely smiled as Fili said, “Thorin. We need to talk about Bilbo.”

Something akin to guilt and shame flooded his features. Thorin nodded, pulling Fili away when the door of the armoury burst open and Frerin came barging in with Dreya and Kiri.

Reya was the one stormed out front, standing face to face with her father.

“We are going out.”

“I can see that.”

“You cannot stop us.”

“I do not intend to.”

“Good.”

With that, Reya turned and began to bark out orders. Kiri began to order the new soldiers in pieces as Frerin made his way to Thorin, Fili and Kili.

“I,” Running a hand through his braids, Frerin said, “Grandfather’s fall to madness was something I was not told about. I did not know that it was...hereditary. I did not even know it was something you could break out of, having lived with.”

Thorin looked alarmed as Frerin continued, looking around at three dwarves in shame, “I had not realized it had crept up again until you stormed out of the room. Thorin, I...”

Before Frerin could continue further, or Thorin reply, Balin poked his head from in the small assembly.

“Not that I am not glad to see you all conversing, but we have a battle to fight. Fili, what were the plans?”

* * *

The world outside was plunged into chaos. Armies of Dwarrows, Men and Elves stood together, fighting against the orcs that were crawling out from every direction. The Dwarves fought on the lands just outside Erebor, sharing the same space and side as that of Elves. A few elves and Men were fighting in the ruins of the City of Dale.

On one corner of the city, where the stairs rose to the tower, Gandalf the Grey was fighting with his staff and sword Galmdring. He was fine fighting like that- what he was not fine with was his fighting partner.

“Bilbo Baggins, get off this battlefield or I will kill you myself.”

Bilbo ignored Gandalf’s words as he slashed another orc’s head. “I thought you said you needed all that you could muster.”

“I did not ask for a pregnant hobbit, you fool!”

Ignoring the churning in his stomach, Bilbo said, “Well you have got one. Deal with it!”

Somewhere along the way, Bilbo had found another sword, so he was working with two swords at once. He hadn’t trained much with both his hands, but he had a good teacher and he knew how to use his passive hand just to do enough.

However, Bilbo was no fool. He ran away from orcs, to his safety first. He might be fighting, but as Gandalf said, he had another life to take care of.

Bilbo was still not ready to completely accept the fact.

A troll was wreaking havoc on the town, and he was far too close to Bilbo for his own liking. Taking the wisest decision he could take at the moment, Bilbo ran for a shelter from the army fo orcs and such.

It was then that a loud sound echoed in the battlefield. He did not recognize the instrument, but he could tell when it was the call of an army well enough. Bilbo peeped out of his hiding spot, just enough, to locate the sound coming from Erebor.

“Thorin,” he whispered to himself.

For a moment, there was nothing.

A large bell crashed into the makeshift wall, breaking the stone away and restoring the path that had been broken away.

Not a moment later, the Company of Thorin Oakenshield came charging out of Erebor.

Bilbo ran to the nearest open corridor to see the Company rally the army of Dain behind them and attacking the Orcs from the front. Laughter escaped from his throat, happiness unlike another bursting in his heart.

Gandalf came around from the other sid,e looking down. Bilbo looke dup, a bit confused, “Where do you think Frerin is?”

As if in the answer of that, a large horn was blown at the base of Dale. Bilbo peeped down, only to see an army fo Dwarves swarming the city of men from every possible direction, effectively blocking the exits of Dale and pushing the orcs inside.

Gandalf smiled a true smile. “They are rallying to their King.”

“To Thrain?”

“No, Bilbo. To Thorin.”

As a group fo Dain's Dwarrows converged down in the city, Gandalf and bilbo watched Vorin and Reya lead an attack there.

“And to Frerin, it seems.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this chapter felt a little disjoint, forgive me. The next update should be under five days!


	28. Kill for you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for this chapter. And angst, lots of angst.

The lands where once woodland lined up, where Dwarrows and Men raised their livestock, their best Goats and horses, was filled with the blood of the accursed. Four armies of Men, Elves, Dwarrows and Orcs fought with all their might, and when those trolls rang down it was hard to see who died. The combined forces of Men, Dwarves and Elves were still no match for the Orcs.

Fili did not think where he moved. He let his hands take over, years of practice with Thorin and Dwalin finally putting off. As long as an orc came in front of him, it died.

Kili stood on the other side, using his sword to kill as many as Orcs as he could. His hands were made for bow and arrows, but there were none now who would stand on the ramparts of Erebor and shoot arrows. Even the Elves had donned their weapons in favour of swords.

Thorin and Frerin led the march, each slashing every orc that came across them. They fought very differently- while Thorin’s attack was offensive, meant to kill, Frerin fought defensively, not hurting but merely pushing the filths away as they came. It wasn’t until he realized that those stupid orcs were not going to stop that he plunged his axe inside one.

“Your right!”

The Dwarrows’ voice rang on the battlefield, telling each of where to look. Not that it was very hard, considering they were surrounded by orcs.

Thorin fought around when a set of familiar braids and red hair caught his attention.

“Dain!”

“Thorin!” came the shout as Dain slashed another orc’s thighs, “Wait, I am coming!”

His idea was coming included hitching a ride on the back of an orc and then killing him in the end. Everyone knew how mad Dain was, so Thorin merely laughed.

“Hey, cousin! What took you so long?”

Thorin plunged a sword into an orc’s stomach before pulling back. With a loud laugh, the two shared a quick embrace. The battlefield was no place for reconciliation, but when families met only in times of adversity, what could one even expect.

Just as they pulled back, Frerin cut off the head of an orc and turned to face the two.

“Dain Ironfoot?” Frerin said breathlessly, “Nice to see ya eventually.”

“Ya aren’t Fili,” Dain noted, looking Frerin up and down.

“No,” Thorin clapped Frerin’s back and smiled, “This is Frerin, my brother and your cousin.”

Dain snorted, “When were you born?”

“Five years after this bugger,” Frerin said before bowing dramatically, “Frerin Silvertongue, at your service Lord Dain.”

“You are Silvertongue?” Dain asked, recognition on his face, “Weren’t you the one who lead the fight against Gundabad orcs a few decades ago? Yes, yes, my dwarrows told me! Out of some thousand, only three remained.”

At Thorin’s surprised yet impressed look, Frerin turned a little red. Slowly massaging his neck, Frerin blushed furiously and said, “Aye, that was me and my wife, Dreya. And Kiri, of course.”

“You depreciated a whole army?” Thorin asked in surprise.

Frerin shrugged, “We didn’t exactly spend every single moment dilly-dallying with Smaug!”

Dain shook his head, “Crazy, the lot of you are.”

Thorin really had an absolutely different idea in his head but refused to actually voice them.

“There are too many of these buggers Thorin,” Dain said with a sigh, “I hope you’ve gotten a plan.”

As if on cue, Dreya and Kiri came on two rams, stopping barely beside the three dwarves.

“Got you a ride!” Dreya huffed, jumping down and stretching her one functioning leg, “I can’t keep picking after you, Frer.”

Frerin grinned, taking the reigns from her and jumping up. Kiri handed over the reins to Thorin before pulling out her axe. Within moments, the two dams were fighting their way through the new incoming batch of orcs.

Balin came next, riding off the machine chariot with Dwalin, Fili and Kili.

“We are going to take out their leader,” Thorin informed Dain, “He has been a pain in my neck for long enough.”

“Azog?” Dain asked dubiously, “You cannot do this! You are our King!”

“Exactly why I must do this,” Thorin said, “He pledged to wipe off the line fo Durins. Now we shall show him the strength of Durins.”

* * *

Bilbo met Reya and Vorin while fighting in Dale. He was engaged in a sort of duel with a, particularly smart orc. Of course, it was just his luck that he got a smart one- when an axe landed on the orc’s back. The being made a rather torturous sound and fell, only to reveal young Vorin with his axe in hand.

“Vorin!”

The young dwarf looked up with a smile, and the very next moment, Bilbo was being wrapped around in a rather surprising hug and a trail of words which were clearly not Westron.

He patted Vorin awkwardly. Vorin continued to babble something, which sounded like someone was churning stone but at the same time singing a melodious song. He pulled back after a solid second, still muttering in Khudzul.

Bilbo raised his hand, essentially silencing the boy. When he looked in question, Bilbo said, “I did not understand the word you just said.”

Realization dawned on Vorin’s face. He looked away embarrassed before shaking his head.

“Forgive me, I begin to talk in Khudzul when I get emotional,” he muttered slowly.

“that’s all right,” Bilbo said. The next moment, he pushed Vorin away and slashed the orc that was running towards them.

It took the dwarf merely a second to recover before he too began to fight the incoming orc army.

Vorin and Bilbo saw the count and immediately ran upwards. It was courageous to fight but foolish to try and take down hundreds of Orcs by just two of them.

They stopped when they reach the top. Then, a few scarce Orcs continued to make their way to them and it was much easier to fight them.

It could have been the end of bilbo’s story then because he was not particularly paying attention to his sides. Thankfully, Reya was, and she came just at the moment to pull off the orc who had decided to make Bilbo his prey.

“Oh yavannah!” Bilbo hissed, “I was not made for battles.”

“Indeed,” Reya said hauntingly. Bilbo rolled his eyes as Vorin nudged his sister. The dam realized her mistake in just a moment as she said, “I mean, you have done a lot for us. For Vorin. You must rest now.”

Bilbo looked at them suspiciously, before looking at Vorin accusingly, “What did you do? I did not take the blame on the ramparts to have you muck it all up!”

“You should not have taken the blame!” Vorin cried, “I am so sorry! With the babe, you-”

“Oh dear Yavannah!” Bilbo threw his hands up in the air, his eyes wide, “Did you tell that to everyone?”

Vorin guiltily looked away. Reya shook her head, “Not everyone, just Fili, Kili and I.”

“Perfect!” Bilbo groaned, “If I make it out of this alive, I am going to be smothered by Durins.”

As Vorin turned to look more guilty. Bilbo’s heart melted at the sight, and he couldn’t help saying, “Not your fault. You did well.”

Vorin smiled slightly, but it looked extremely strained. Bilbo shook his head at the young dwarf when something on the opposite side caught his eye.

Walking around the two dwarrows, Bilbo saw five rams run across the Ravenhill.

“Gandalf!”

As if by magic, the wizard was by his side the very next moment. So were Vorin and Reya.

“It’s Thorin!” Gandalf said happily, “Fili, kili, Frerin and Dwalin!”

“Why are they going to Ravenhill?” Reya asked, sounding a bit scared.

“To cut off the head of the snake.”

It was then that the sound of hooves of a horse came. All turned to see the son of Elvenking coming up, riding with the Captain of Guard.

“Tauriel!” was the happy cry by both of the Dwarves. She climbed down and looked relieved to see them all.

“I go away for a few days and Silvertongue has waged war?” she asked almost jokingly.

Reya’s face darkened. “You were not here for the worst of it.”

As Tauriel looked confusedly at them, the elf prince, Legolas, went on to greet Gandalf.

“There’s a second army,” he explained hurriedly, “Bolg leads a force of Gundabad orcs. They are almost upon us.”

“Gundabad,” Gandalf said darkly, “That was their plan all along! Azog engages our forces, then Blog sweeps up from the north.”

“Excuse me, the north?” Bilbo looked around in worry, “Wh-where exactly is the north?”

It was Vorin who answered, all colour had left his face, “Ravenhill.”

Bilbo, Vorin and Reya looked collectively ill. Bilbo felt his own breath leaving the body. If the Durins made it to the hill, they would be marching to their death.

Thorin would be marching to his death.

“We have to go!” Reya said immediately, pulling out her axe, “Vorin, gather the forces. We need to move to Ravenhill, NOW!”

“Princess Reya, stop!”

Gandalf’s voice did stop her, but not without some apprehension, “You would never make it! Azog’s forces will kill you.”

“I am not sitting here and waiting for my family to die,” Reya hissed, “If that comes from my own sacrifice, then so be it.”

“Be as it may, you will never reach fast enough!”

“Then I will go.”

All faces turned collectively to Bilbo. His face was set firmly, no hesitation or a crease of worry. He looked around, shaking his head, “Thorin, Fili and Kili are up there. I am not leaving them.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” said Gandalf, “You’ll never make it.”

“Why not?”

“because they will see you and kill you!”

“Not if Reya and Vorin engage the forces!” Bilbo said, looking at the two dwarves, “Gandalf, they will not see me.”

“But in your condition!”

That was Reya. She looked perfectly aghast at the very suggestion. Bilbo sniffed, shaking his head, “I am not an invalid, Reya. I am going.”

“I forbid it,” Gandalf said sternly.

Bilbo smiled, albeit sadly, before shaking his head, “I wasn’t asking for your permission.”

With another look at the people around, Bilbo turned and fled. He had a family to save.

* * *

Reaching Ravenhill was easy. As easy as it could be in a war, that is.

Battling orcs, wargs and trolls, Thorin led Frerin, Fili, Kili and Dwalin up the hill. The frozen river gave them another way in, which was great for them. Battling the orcs in the way, they reached the top in time.

A small battalion waited for them, and among the five of them, battling them was not extremely hard. Frerin and Thorin alone could have taken care of the lot of them.

“Where is he?” asked Kili once the last fo orcs were dead.

The place where Azog had stood remained empty, and there was no other evidence of life on the hill. The ruins almost brought Thorin to tears, for once this hill was his favourite spot. But it was not the time to dwell on that.

“Azog has not fled,” he said, looking around, “He is wise. Wise for an orc.”

“Then where is he?” asked Frerin.

To that, Thorin had no idea. He turned around and said, “Frerin, take Fili and Kili. Scout out the towers. Keep low and out of sight. If you see something, report back. Do not engage. DO you understand?”

Frerin snorted, shaking his head, “I had forgotten how bossy you were.”

Thorin merely glared at him. Frerin nodded, looking at his sister-sons and gesturing them to follow him. He knew the ruins well enough, each nook and cranny. He had trained his children in the cracks of Ravenhill, taught them all that he could. It was something that he could do.

“We have Company. Goblin mercenaries.”

Dwalin’s voice brought everyone to a standstill. Thorin stepped forward, looking at the goblins running down.

“No more than a hundred.”

“We’ll take care of them. Go!”

They did not need to be told twice. Frerin took the lead as Goblins came closer. As he disappeared around the trail with his sister sons, the goblins attacked thorin and Dwalin.

Thorin and Dwalin moved in sync. If one took the front, the other had the back. One took left, the other took right. They were shield brothers, having fought together since there were children. Neither Thorin nor Dwalin needed to communicate as they weeded the goblins out.

Hundred was still a small number for their combined strength. They could have easily taken on more of those filths, but they did not have to. Neither complained about their lack either.

But when it came to an end, far too soon, both had their doubts. They did not need to voice their thoughts. Goblins moved in bulk. Such a less number was concerning. Both Dwalin and Thorin knew that.

As the last goblin fell, Dwlain looked around. There were no more- no orcs, no goblins. “Where is that orc filth?”

Thorin had no answer to that. The hills were empty. There was no message from Frerin or his nephews. It was absolutely quiet. So quiet that Thorin did not hear him come in.

“Thorin.”

Thorin turned at his voice, relief flooding his features. It was Bilbo. Mahal, it was his Husband. He was alive.

There was so much he had to say. To apologize for. For the past, the present, the future. But at the moment, it all mixed and all Thorin could feel was guilt. He should have been better. He needed to be better, “ _Ghivashel_ , I am so-”

“Not the time,” Bilbo cut him off. Thorin shut his mouth, not really surprised yet concerned, “You have to leave here. Now. Azog has another army attacking from the north. This watchtower will be completely surrounded. There’ll be no way out.”

“We are so close,” Dwalin said, “That orc scum is in there. I say we push on.”

“No,” said Thorin, “That’s what he wants. He wants to draw us in.”

Realization dawned on him. “This is a trap.”

He looked around in horror. His family, his brother and nephews, they had gone off alone. He did not doubt any of their strength or mind, but Azog was fowl. He was smart. He could easily overpower them. “Find Kili and Fili. Frerin. Draw them all back!”

“Are you sure about this?” asked Dwalin.

“Do it,” said Thorin, “We will live to fight another day.”

But the drums and lights of the orc stopped them all, and the three of them turned to the tower. Thorin’s breath hitched as he saw the sight before him. Every vein froze, his breath becoming erratic.

The fears of his past all came tumbling down to him. His every step had been to make sure that his family remained safe. When he had told Dis about the quest, she had only made him promise one thing. He was failing in keeping that one promise.

“ _Keep my sons safe, Thorin. Keep my sons safe and bring them back to me, alive. I am not burying any more family._ ”

* * *

Bilbo’s eyes widened as he realized who stood up there.

Azog held Fili by his collar, shouting in his speech. Bilbo did not understand him, but it did not take a genius to figure what he was saying. First Fili, then Kili and then Thorin.

Azog was ready to finish the Line of Durin.

“RUN!”

Even in the face of peril, Fili’s thoughts were with the ones who had a chance. Fili. His Fili. His little boy. The Prince was no child, but he had become Bilbo’s child.

An axe landed on Azog’s arm. He cried out in pain. The world slowed down as Fili fell.

Bilbo stopped breathing as a thud echoed in the air.

He had thought, he had said so. He was going to lose someone this winter too. The snow that covered the ruins of Ravenhill, the watchtower, was just another burial ground. It was evidence, of all that was to come.

Bilbo knew the moment Durin’s Day had been talked about, that it was going to end badly. In his mind, it was going to be Thorin. Perhaps burnt by dragon fire, or having fallen to death fighting someone. He had envisioned the day many times, all through the quest. He had had nightmares that he had hidden. It was always the same. Thorin lying on his back, his sword on his chest, surrounded by the Company. All crying at the loss of their leader.

Never, ever in his wildest dreams, had Bilbo thought that the figure lying on the stone slab could be Fili. He had never thought it would be Fili.

Tears threatened to escape his eyes. His heart burned. Not with sadness, but with unriddled anger. It was his nephew. His boy.

Azog was going to pay for it.

Thorin took off shouting Kili’s name. Bilbo ran after him, having every intention of killing the filth. But his was blocked by the numerous orcs.

They were foolish to attack the Hobbit, thinking it was going to be an easy kill. He was going to be the death of them all.

* * *

Thorin saw red. Even as he moved and fought Azog, memories swirled in front of his head.

Memories of a young dwarfling, barely big enough to fit in both his arms. Those big green eyes looking his own blue ones. Golden hair that only the blessed few of Durin’s line had. A gap-toothed grin when he was caught in a basket of vegetables.

Thorin pushed Azog, slashing his stomach and the arm he had once taken off.

Fili had learnt how to fight when he barely reached Thorin’s waist. Thorin still remembered the day, when ten-year-old Fili held a sword far too big for his hand and dragged it across the arena. Even Dwlain had cracked a smile as Fili stopped in front of Thorin, his eyes wide and begging to learn how to wield a sword.

He pushed the filth down, and there he tumbled. Thorin barely had a moment to breathe before another battalion came down on him.

Thorin fought through them. He did not even count or worry, or care. He could not when the blood of his nephew, his son lay on his hands.

When he landed on the frozen waterfall, he saw Azog again. This time, he did not come empty-handed. In one hand, he held an axe, and in another, a gold armour. A menacing was spread on his face, and Thorin forgot how to breathe.

It was Frerin’s axe. It was Kili’s armour.

Thorin did not see was the orcs pushed him off, until he was lying on his back, almost halfway dangling on the hill.

He heard the shout of the Elvish prince first. When he looked back, he saw his once-beloved sword being thrown along with an arrow. The orc over him feel. Thorin caught the Orcrist.

When he got back on his feet, Frerin’s axe was lying at a distance, along with Kili’s armour.

All were gone. The Line fo Durin had ended. His nephews, his sons were gone. His brother was dead.

Azog was coming towards him. Despite a limp, a wound on his arm, he stood tall. He had only one intention- that of killing Thorin. He could succeed.

Thorin looked at Azog. His enemy of truly long. Thorin tightly gripped his sword. If he were to die, he would take Azog with him.

With the Orcrist in his hands again, Thorin marched. With all the anger he could truly muster. His anger for Fili, for Kili, for Frerin.

He dodged attack after attack, for as long as he could. He pushed Azog, he thrust his sword. He inflicted pain over the orc. In the course, he gained his own wounds. On his chest, on his left hand. On his leg. But none brought him pain, not like the one he felt within him.

He moved from side to side. Azog continued to attack the ice. Thorin was unable to hide his smile. Smart the orc might be, he wasn’t the smartest.

The ice broke. Azog fell in the water, his eyes wide in horror.

Thorin wondered if victory could be that easy.

It was then that a sword pierced through his leg.

* * *

There was the lore of old in dwarves, which said the Ones could feel each other’s every pain. Thorin had said that it was just that, lore. But on nights when Bilbo couldn’t sleep, he believed them.

So he believed it when he heard a cry from deep within him. The orcs were dead, and Dwalin was breathing heavily around him. There were lots of sounds on a battlefield, but Bilbo could clearly hear the call of his love.

“Thorin...”

Dwalin looked at him quizzically, but Bilbo paid him no heed before running down to listen to his heart’s call.

He ran and ran, up the stairs and through the ruins, till he saw him.

Thorin was pushed on his back, and Azog was pushing his hand sword.

Thorin was holding his own. But he was tired, so tired. Bilbo could feel the cogs running in his husband’s head. He...no. He would not do it.

With a cry, Bilbo charged. The Orc’s attention was turned as Bilbo ran to him. He picked up Thorin and threw him aside. Thorin landed on the ground with a thud. Azog growled at Bilbo. Like a wolf growled when something came between it and its prey.

Bilbo charged with all his might. But he was small and so was his sword. Azog pushed him to back in the first try.

He landed on his back, his spine hurting. Gasping for breath, Bilbo turned as Azog took a menacing step towards him. Bilbo stood up, ignoring the pains that racked his entire body. He gripped his Sting, ready to attack.

“Hey, you filth!” shouted Thorin, “I thought you wanted to end me.”

The Orc turned and smirked, before breaking out in a run. Bilbo watched in horror as Azog’s attention had turned and ran after him. He pushed the sword in Azog’s thighs, eliciting a deep growl of pain.

Azog grabbed Bilbo from the back and threw him away. He landed on his back on the ice, and for that Bilbo was glad. When he sat up, he could see the Orc filth on his husband. The Sting lay not so far, and Bilbo wasted no minute to grab it.

Bilbo was not that far, so he took a chance. He stood up and broke out in a run without shouting. As soon as he came close, he thrust his sword on the back on the beast.

The first he heard was a gasp. Bilbo pulled out the Sting and staggered in his steps. The world was moving in circles. It took him a moment to see clearly.

Thorin was sitting up on the orc, his own sword buried in his chest. With one last push, Thorin buried the sword into the ice, the orc impaled.

This was it, Bilbo realized as the last of breath left the orc’s body. The Defiler was dead.

Bilbo blinked. The orc was dead. His eyes were lifeless. Thorin was looking at Azog, and Azog only. As if checking if he really was dead.

Like at the end of a hard day when Bilbo felt faint, the hobbit felt his head weighing heavily on his neck. When the adrenaline had stopped, he could feel every pain. There was one of his right arm, a slash that was bleeding. A bruise on his chest. A hit on his head by the back of an orc’s weapon that he had managed to ignore.

With a thud, Bilbo landed on his knees, the world circling around him. Nothing was straight, colours mixing everywhere. The only thing he could see was Thorin.

His name escaped as prayer through Bilbo's lips. Thorin. His Thorin. His Husband, his love. His family. His everything.

“Thorin.”

Thorin looked up at him, getting off the orc. His step was as swirly as Bilbo’s head. When Bilbo blinked, he saw a wound. A wound in Thorin’s stomach. A wound too big. Another, far too close to Thorin’s chest.

Bilbo tried to move, to come close to Thorin. His legs gave up. They refused to move. As he dragged his knees across the cold ice, Thorin fell on his back. There were so apart, so far apart.

“Thorin.”

It was barely louder than a whisper. It took all of Bilbo’s strength with him. He landed on his front, cold ice caressing his cheek.

Thorin looked sideways, his eyes fixed on Bilbo. They were too far. Bilbo tried to crawl, but his body refused to move.

“Bilbo.”

With a soft sound, he extended his hand. Looked at it, calling him closer. He immediately reached out, his hand extended.

The distance between their fingers was lesser than the size of a toe, but their bodies were giving up. Bilbo couldn’t move. Not anymore.

He lowered his eyes, breathing heavily. Everything was going dark. There was the call of eagles somewhere. There was a shout.

The last thing he felt was a brush of finger across his own. The last thought that he went across his head was that even in the end, at least he was close to Thorin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise you this story has a happy ending


	29. Wait for you (As long as it takes)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG Y'ALL! I think I need to add the tag of Everybody live/ No one dies. I will give you all sufficient angst, no doubt, but the permanent end? Nah. Personally, I still cannot deal with that matter and you think I would do that in my writing? Ha! I am pretty sure when (if) I write my own novel, the biggest critique of it would be that this author Is not realistic about deaths. Lmao. 
> 
> This had to be one of the longer chapters I have written. You almost didn't get this, cause my family is in a turbulent state rn. And I really don't know when next chapter would be updated. But yeah, hopefully soon. I need a break from all my assignments too. 
> 
> Thank you all! You comment made my day! Especially the long time readers who decide to comment for the first time! I have the most number of comments on the last chapter, lol. 
> 
> here ya go!

There was music in the air. Music that pierced the heart. Deep voices rising in harmony. A string instrument in the background. Each tone carried something akin to sadness, but not quite. There was hope yet.

It was cold. His body shuddered. Soft landed on him. It was warmer.

Pain seared through his head.

The music stopped.

He opened his eyes. Slowly. It was dark. A few torches threw some rays of light around. There were bearded faces, many bearded faces. They all looked at him.

“Bilbo?”

He blinked a few times. There was a beard, not too big. Curling moustache. A floppy hat.

Bilbo opened his mouth, but all that came out was a groan. A pail of water was pressed to his lips. He took it all in, his throat feeling warmth after ages.

Once he pushed back, he realized he was on a bed. Bilbo tried to sit up but in vain. Strong hands pushed him back, forcing him back on the bed.

There was only one thing on his mind. Only one thought.

“Tho-rin?” he rasped out.

“Alive,” someone said, “Go to sleep, Bilbo. He is alive.”

Bilbo nodded and turned. The pain was subsiding, and whatever thoughts could have harassed him were gone.

He fell asleep to the beginning of another song.

* * *

When Bilbo next woke up, he was first aware of the light. Not the sunlight he was used to, but something far cooler, and whiter. Blinking, he looked around, when his eyes landed on a crystal high up on the ceiling.

Frowning, Bilbo turned. There was another crystal that side. Three-four white crystals emitted light which highlighted the dark green stone walls. There was a dresser on the side, made of oak wood. He was lying on a high bed, and the blanket was made of wool. It almost reminded Bilbo fo Ori’s cardigans.

The door beside the dresser slowly opened, and Bilbo merely looked as Ori walked in. On his head was a bandage, and his left arm was in a sling.

When Ori looked at him, a surprised yet wide smile spread on his face. Crying out his name, Ori ran to Bilbo, before pulling him in a tight hug.

The bruises of the war hurt his back, especially his spine. But before Bilbo could ask Ori to get off, tears were rolling off on his shoulder.

“We, we were so worried,” sniffed Ori, pulling back. Up close, Bilbo could see dark circles under the Dwarves’ eyes. He wiped the tears and said, “When they brought you in, oh Bilbo!”

Just like that, he was pulled into another hug. Bilbo decided to not complain after all- Ori looked aghast.

His torment was thankfully cut short as Dori appeared on the doorway. He looked like Yule had come early, but then proceeded to pull Ori off, scolding him slightly.

“Bilbo had bruises on his back, don’t you remember?” Dori demanded.

Ori pouted like a scolded child, before turning to Bilbo and muttering a sorry. Bilbo smiled slightly, resting his back on the fluffy pillows. It didn't give him a lot of relief, but there was something harder wrapped around his chest and stomach.

The thought of his stomach pushed away any lingering sleep. His hands flew to his stomach. There was something hard wrapped around.

Bilbo could feel the past coming back to haunt him, along with his own foolishness. He had barely known about it, and he had gone off in battle. What was he thinking? Oh, he was so stupid.

“Bilbo, breathe.”

He was breathing. But Dori continued to ask him to breathe, and eventually, his breath became somewhat regular. He had not even realized that it hadn’t.

“You are all right,” Dori said calmly, “and so is your babe.”

“How...what...”

“Ori and Bofur told me when they brought you in,” he explained slowly, “I have worked with Dwarven mothers before. We couldn’t be sure, but Oin helped patch you up and he assured me. There was no bleeding. There has been nothing wrong so far. We can confirm it today as well.”

He said it so calmly. So normally. As if it was a small problem that he needed to handle, nothing more.

Bilbo blinked slowly, coming back to the present. The hard thing wrapped around him seemed to support his back, which clearly made his pain a little less. Though he was no expert in war bruises.

“How long?” he asked slowly, his throat still scratchy.

Dori immediately asked for a jug of water. Ori picked one up form the dresser and it was passed over to Bilbo, who greedily drank it all.

Once the last drop was gone, Bilbo took a deep breath. “Thorin?”

The silence that greeted him was painful. He did not dare to look up. But he had to. He needed to know.

Dori looked sad as he said, “He is...alive.”

“But?” of course there was a but.

“But he is not in the best of condition,” Ori informed him, “When they brought him in, he had a lot of wounds. Dwarven and Elvish healers are working on him, but it isn’t easy.”

“of course,” Bilbo mumbled. Thorin was not dead. Thorin was alive. he was breathing. oh Yavannah, he was going to pray to every deity known once he got better, “How long?”

“How long has it been?” Bilbo nodded at Dori’s question. “Close to a week a half. You were out for most of it.”

“We won,” Ori added hurriedly, “Azog and all his spawns were killed.”

Bilbo smiled slightly. Yes, he was here when Azog died. He was the one who had pushed his sword onto the orc.

Before he could think more, the door flew open and the Ur clan, along with Nori came in with a large shout. Wincing at the noise, Bilbo accepted most of the hugs and smiles and apologies. Everyone had some sort fo a bandage- Bofur on his shoulders, Nori on his legs, Bombur on his left arm.

The most surprising, however, was the lack of axe on Bifur’s head.

“Aye, that thing is gone for good.”

Bilbo blinked. Bifur...was talking in Westron. He could actually understand him.

“isn’t it great?” Bofur said excitedly, “Our Bifur can speak again!”

“I could always speak ya imbecile!” he grunted, “Now I can’t even curse and scare.”

“You are still plenty scary,” Ori offered. Bifur looked terribly pleased with that.

Bilbo slowly shook his head. Too much. Too little, “Did everyone make it?”

“You mean the whole army?” Bofur asked gravely, “Nay. Many lost their lives, distant kins, old people.”

“I meant the Company.”

A weird sot of silence passed through the group. Bilbo sighed, blinking away the tears. Of course. He had seen Fi-

“Everyone’s alive,” came Nori’s voice.

Bilbo immediately looked up, shock clear on his face, “Everyone?”

“All fourteen of us,” Nori said with a nod, “Well, fifteen if you count that old wizard.”

“Fili?”

It was Bofur who sighed, “The lad is alive. How, don’t ask. Dwalin said he fell from the top.”

Bilbo nodded. He was there.

“Well, we will hear the story when he wakes up,” Ori said stiffly.

“If he wakes up,” Nori added darkly.

“Stop,” Bilbo said weakly, looking at everyone, “Tell me the whole story. What happened?”

The looks exchanged were dubious at best. Everyone settled down somewhere, looking at the other to begin the story. It was finally Bifur who spoke up.

“King Thrain left Erebor halfway through the battle,” he said slowly, “I saw him go. He must have spotted Azog from one of the terraces. He cut through orcs like Bombur cuts his carrots. Swift and clean.”

“Thrain? As in Thorin’s father?”

Bifur nodded seriously, “The very same. He knew the orcs. Knew which were the leaders. We couldn’t have even guessed.”

“Some of us followed him.,” Dori added, “Him being old and all. All the way up to Ravenhill. Lady Reya and Prince Vorin’s forces were engaged at the base, and together we were able to push through.”

“We first found Lord Frerin and Kili,” said Bifur, “And thank mahal we did. The she-elf, Kili’s love, was holding them both and bringing them to the mountain. They had taken deep wounds. If she wasn't fast, we wouldn’t have been able to save them.”

“We found Fili on one of the lower level,” told Bofur, “His spine...well, let’s say he was not in the best of conditions. He hasn’t woken up yet.”

“Nor has Kili,” Nori supplied helpfully, “Those brothers do everything together.”

“Not the only set,” muttered Bofur.

“What do you mean?” demanded Bilbo.

It was Dori who sighed, “The Eagles carried over Thorin and you, straight to the open rooms. Oh, Bilbo, If they were a little late...”

Bilbo’s throat swelled up. He couldn’t bear to imagine what would happen if the eagles were late.

“How is he now?” Bilbo asked softly, “When can I see him?”

The Dwarves shared a worried look. Bilbo frowned.

“What?”

Bombur said, “Lord Thrain...sort of...”

“What?” he asked, more worried.

“He has gone mad, aye,” Bofur spoke plainly, “Has put the whole Royal Wing on lockdown.”

As Bilbo’s eyes continued to widen, he continued, “Only Oin goes in and out, that too he spends most of the time inside. Dain, sometimes. He isn’t allowing Balin or Dwalin to see anyone, claiming that they pushed them to war.”

“Has he lost his mind?”

“Yes,” Dori said distastefully, “Even poor Lady Dreya and her children aren’t allowed in.”

Nori huffed, “Not for the lack of trying. But anybody who is not a Durin’s child is banned from entering.”

“I am sure Frerin’s children can count on being the same line!”

“Not according to him,” Ori supplied, “I think that only reason Fili and Kili are pulled in is because they look so much like their Uncles. It’s truly worrying if you ask me.”

“What-” Bilbo shook his head, “Who’s ruling then?”

“Lady Dreya, with the help of her children and Commander Kiri,” Nori said, “Dain helps. The whole army is currently inside the mountain.”

“So are the men, and the Elves who remained back,” Ori said, then lower his voice and whispered suspiciously, “That Elf Guard Kili had lost his mind over? She is helping them. Lord Thrain doesn’t know how to react from what I have heard. Most of the Dwarves here actually know her.”

“They are old friend, Ori,” Bombur said softly, “She and Lord Frerin and Bard, they go way back what I heard.” giggling softly, he added, “I heard she was shouting at Bard just yesterday for waging war.”

Though the news was interesting, Bilbo could not bring himself to care. His mind was fixed on Thorin, Fili and Kili, all who survived but were so away from his reach. Of course, Thrain was posing problems for the lot. He was not the sanest ruler out there. Perhaps with the torture, the gold sickness was seeping in his mind too.

"Don’t you worry, it will be fine,” Dori assured him, and Bilbo found himself trying to smile. But then, Dori’s own face turned serious, “But do pray tell, Bilbo, what were you thinking going to battle with a babe?”

The silence that followed could only be described as awkward. Bofur and Nori shared a somewhat mischievous smile and Ori looked terribly sorry. For telling Dori or for what was to come, Bilbo did not know.

“I, well, I wasn’t thinking.”

“Clearly!” Dori said, swatting Bilbo lightly, “You could have died! Now, of course, it isn’t time to dwell on this. We need supplies. You need to get confirmed. I will not ask poor Oin. But I get will herbs. By Mahal, you need herbs! And blankets! This isn’t enough. Winter is coming! Oh, and socks! I do not care that you don’t wear boots, Bilbo, this is most important that you protect yourself. Ori, get me some wool from the market, would you? Bombur, here, let me write down the herbs I need and you get them. Bofur, I will write down the important accessories. Get them from men, not Dwarrows. Bifur, Nori, I will give you lists too. Nori, no stealing. There is a lot we need to do!”

* * *

When Dori gets into the mode, no soul can stop him. Bilbo learnt it as he was mothered. Within a day, the bare room he was inhabiting was turned into a suite. There were blankets, clothes that would fit him and not overly dwarvish, comfortable socks and booties and whatever Bilbo could think off.

It took a few herbs to confirm his condition. Honestly, Bilbo did not need it but when he watched the concoction turn from grey to brown, he almost wept in joy. Almost.

Afterwards, Bombur had taken it upon him to feed Bilbo to death, as the dinner itself was so huge that Bilbo could not stomach it. The herbs that Dori lay down beside him were numerous, and one of them just ended up being the one he was given the last time in his tea. How Thorin had gotten it back then, Bilbo had no idea.

The thought of Thorin and his boys never truly left his mind. But as he slowly learnt, he could not exactly move. His legs had taken good damage, and so had his back. It would be at least another week before he was on his feet. Even then, his days of picking up apple pies on window sills were long over.

Not that he had done anything of the sort in recent past.

It was on the second or the third day that he was visited by Dreya.

She looked sick. Her shoulders were drooping. Her clothes looked crisper when they had first met, and her braids in various states of disarray. She still managed to look well put, but there was no question of how tired it was.

Dreya greeted Bilbo with a smile, her artificial hand open for all to see. To be honest, Bilbo had quite forgotten that little detail about her.

“I believe congratulations are in order.”

Bilbo glared at the door where Ori had just run away from.

“Vorin told me,” she explained, before clicking her tongue, “More like, cried out when nobody could find you. He took it as a personal fault, I think. After all that you did.”

Her vague show of hands confirmed Bilbo’s fears. The young dwarf had spilt everything to his mother. How he kept quiet about the Arkenstone, Bilbo could only guess.

“Not his fault,” Bilbo mumbled, halfway through his cup of tea, “He is a child.”

Dreya smiled sadly, “My Reya and Vorin have not been children in a long time, Master Baggins. Vorin’s childishness and absolute faith do get him in trouble, though. Thank you for helping him out.”

Bilbo shook his head, “Accepted as that or not, he is still a child.”

“He is older than you,” she added, amused.

Bilbo snorted, placing down his cup of tea, “If those ages began to play here I would be regarded a toddler, surely.”

A genuine grin passed through Dreya’s face, but it disappeared as soon as it had come. Bilbo could feel her pain. He understood her, to some extent.

“How is Master Frerin?” he asked softly.

Dreya laughed bitterly, “When the old King lets us pass through, I will let you know.”

“Now he can’t be that unreal!” Bilbo said, truly baffled, “You are his wife.”

“You will find Lord Thrain is the reason for stubbornness that runs in the family,” Dreya said dryly, “and he is the worst of them all.”

Bilbo let out a frustrated noise. Confound the Durins!

“Is he not letting anyone inside?”

“Very few. It is a miracle he let Tauriel and her band of healers in. Probably because she to some extent saved Frerin.”

Sighing, Bilbo rubbed his face. He had all plans to march up to the King and give him his peace of mind once this whole drama was over. Especially after he could walk again.

Daya cocked her head, something akin to confusion on her face, “Though I have to ask, Master Baggins, How exactly does the pregnancy work?”

Bilbo snorted, “It’s quite a long story.”

Dreya waved her hands, sitting comfortably in the chair, “Reya has it under control. If there is one thing I can trust my daughter to do extremely well, it’s looking after the matters. Mahal knows after all things I have been through, I deserve a break.”

Albeit hesitantly, Bilbo began the tale of Tooks oddities. To his immense surprise, he found Dreya to be a good listener. She interjected once he stopped, and had many questions to ask. Once the barrier that lay between them was crossed and both put aside their prejudices, Bilbo found himself liking the Dam. She was serious with most matters but knew how to have fun. By the time Nori came to fetch her, Bilbo and Dreya were bent laughing over Frerin’s drastic ways of the proposal.

“Did he truly do that?”

Snorting as she stood up, Dreya nodded, “Dragon fire or no, these sons fo Durin love to be dramatic. When Reya showed no signs of it I was glad, but I am truly afraid for Vorin. It will be a disaster waiting to happen when he finds his One.”

Bilbo couldn’t help but agree. She bid him goodbye and promised to come again as soon as possible. Bilbo assured her she need not hurry. Thorin took six months away to rule a kingdom- he could understand what sort of issues she was shouldering.

Nori watched her go with an amused expression, before turning to Bilbo.

“You sure make friends fast, aye?”

Bilbo shrugged. If people were good, why wouldn’t he?

Nori huffed, setting down on the chair, “I have been put on babysitting duties by Dori. Here’s the list of questions- are the blankets soft? Have ya taken the herbs? Does your back hurt? Are you hungry?”

Bilbo snorted, “I am fine, as you very well can see. I have taken the herbs and no I am not hungry.”

“Great,” grinned Nori, plopping up his non-injured leg on Bilbo’s bed, “Do ya mind?”

Bilbo shook his head.

Nori grinned, resting comfortably on the chair, “So how’s little miracle treating ya?”

Huffing, Bilbo ran a hand over his stomach, “I can’t exactly feel the babe yet. It will be a while before that.”

But he liked the name Miracle. Not that he would actually name the babe that- if he got to name them.

Shaking the ugly thoughts away, Bilbo could just think, calling the small babe miracle. It would be nice.

“So what?” shrugged Nori, “They are Royalty, that too Durins. If they don’t create havoc from the time they exist, I would eat my feet.”

Bilbo smiled fondly at that, “yes, sure. We will see how much royalty they are, with all the nonsense going around.”

As he picked up his almost cold tea to his lips, Nori said, “Well, Thorin’s a royalty. And you married him.”

The cup tumbled from his hands. Some of the tea could have spilt, but the disaster was averted. For the moment.

Bilbo looked at Nori with wide eyes. The thief for his part looked like he had just announced the weather. Nothing big.

“Wh-What? What did you say?”

Nori gave him an unimpressed look, “Come on, Master Baggins. I was not the most infamous thief of Ered Luin for stealing jewellery.”

“how long have you known?” Bilbo asked, ignoring the erratic beating of his heart.

“Since the Shire.”

“ _The Shire?”_

Nori shrugged at Bilbo’s half scream, moving around a bit to settle down more comfortably, “Thorin disappeared that night and then came out from yoru room next morning. It wasn’t taht hard a guess.”

Bilbo closed his eyes. That felt so long ago. Was Thorin so loud? Well, he was loud as a general rule, and dramatic too, but Bilbo had not really thought too much about that at the moment. Too busy spending the last few private moments together back then.

“Who else knows?”

“Nobody,” Nori said seriously “If someone knew they thought it a dalliance, not a seriosu relationship.”

“How did you know then?” demanded Bilbo.

Nori grinned, pulling back his legs and stretching, “I must have overheard the two of ya, in Beron’s house. Seen the beads. The princes weren’t very careful.”

His mind could only relay all the ways this whole thing could have gone wrong. Oh, stupid Thorin and his stupid plans. And stupid him for going along with them. But mostly Stupid Thorin.

“So you have known all the while?”

Nori scooted bilbo a bit and settled down beside him, before giving him the widest grin, “Aye.”

“And it doesn’t bother you?” Bilbo asked seriously.

Nori turned serious too. He looked at Bilbo and said, “My ma slept with differnet dwarves after the loss of her One. I am no one to judge who does what and where they find their Ones, you know.”

It really didn’t explain much, but Bilbo could appreciate the honesty, “Why haven’t you told anyone?”

“What will I gain?” Nori shrugged, before grinning evilly and putting his arm across Bilbo, “And you are a burglar, I am a thief. We belong to the same world.”

“Not really.”

“Say whatever you like, Bilbo Baggins, you are now a part of Ri kin from all of us. Dori is already killing ya with all the mother henning, and Ori adored you. And you and I, we have a thief code.”

All Bilbo could do was groan. Even as he buried his face in his hands and Nori laughed beside him, Bilbo felt what he had not felt in some time.

He felt at home.

* * *

It took a while, but Bilbo got better. One thing he was good at was taking care of himself and others, and so by the end of the week, Bilbo could walk around well enough. He surely couldn’t break out in a run, but a simple walk was not going to hurt him.

Dreya kept visiting, as promised, and soon enough, they were discussing politics and treasury. The foolishness of some Dwarrows truly surprised Bilbo, considering that some higher officials from Dain’s army were demanding for treasury to be open to them all.

“They don’t understand the concept of a curse, clearly,” Dreya huffed, “it’s a pity the grey wizard has disappeared, or I would ask him to turn them all into animals.”

“Gandalf would enjoy that immensely,” Bilbo added dryly. He was quite put off when he realized that Gandalf was gone. No one knew where he went, but his last words had been that he would bring help. What sort of help, nobody knew.

“Some even tried to approach Thrain, as the ‘rightful king’” Dreya added with scorn, “Thankfully, he was so invested in the wellbeing of his sons that he did not hear a word they said.”

That made Bilbo sombre, “Any words from them?”

Dreya shook her had, sadness reflecting on her features, “We have all tried to talk to him, but he is refusing to listen to reason. Balin finally got to go in though, and he says that Kili woke up for a bit.”

Bilbo let out a large breath. That was good news. He did not know the extent of Kili’s injuries, but being asleep for so long made it clear he hadn’t come out unscathed.

“I wish to see them,” Bilbo mumbled.

Dreya snorted, “I would advise against that, Bilbo. Thrain would throw a fit.”

“Let him,” said Bilbo, “My- Thorin, Fili and Kili are put inside, and so is Frerin. We have the rights to see them.”

“he hardly cares about those rights.”

“Well, he will learn to,” Bilbo said hauntingly, “When do you go next? I will come with you. I can’t bear to be away anymore.”

Dori thought it to be a bad idea when he finally communicated it to him. Sitting around in Dori’s living room, everyone looked dubious as Bilbo declared he was going to march up to Thrain and demand to see Thorin with Dreya.

“that’s a bad idea,” Bombur supplied unhelpfully.

Bilbo nodded, “I know, I know. But what is the worse he can do?”

* * *

Banish him. Again.

Technically Bilbo’s banishment had not been lifted, and the last that Thorin had said was banishing him from his life and kingdom, which was dramatic enough.

But Thrain had merely reinforced that banishment. Bilbo still could not wrap his head around the events.

The day had started normally. Dori had asked after him excessively, Ori had read him some parts of the journey Bofur and nori had joked around with him. Vorin had come soon after lunch, greeting bilbo with much gusto. He had to be reminded of Bilbo’s injuries, which led to the boy apologizing. In khudzul.

Vorin lead him out, with Dreya and Reya waiting at the crossroad. Reya had nodded her head in greeting, and Dreya had smiled sadly before all four of them had made their way to the Royal wings.

The roads were alive with many dwarves, and makeshift stands and homes housed the Dwarrows of Iron Hills. Many stared at Bilbo, and some even pointed ta him, but he ignored it completely. They took a road that did not pass through the treasury. As informed by Dreya, that matter was being very carefully handled by Gloin, so that none of the Durins even saw the light of that gold.

They reached the Royal Wings in due time. Unlike the last time, when Bilbo had not realized when those corridors began, a grand archway signalled the entrance of the Royal Palace. If he looked carefully, Bilbo could see some sort of narrative in those sculptures, but he was truly not interested. There were already quite a few soldiers scattered around, blocking the way. If that was not enough, no sooner had they reached the place, Thrain appeared at the door like a hawk.

He was not dressed in the expensive clothing like Bilbo had seen before. He wore a simple tunic and breeches, with something like a shawl over his shoulders. His hair was ragged. He glared at the lot of them as if they were worst sort of scums.

“What is he doing here?” he demanded, pointing at Bilbo.

“I am here to see Thorin,” Bilbo declared, not giving anyone a chance to speak.

Thrain glared at him, breathing heavily, “You, you! You are a fae! You have trapped my son! No, you are not going to see him.”

He did have fae-blood, but that did not make him one.

“Lord Thrain, please,” Dreya said tiredly, clearly having had this conversation a lot of times before, “We are their family.”

“family? You all are the reason my sons walked out, defied my words. They almost got killed! It would be over my dead body that you see them.”

“that can be arranged,” Reya muttered darkly under her breath. Dreya glared at her, but Bilbo, in a fit of frustration, seemed to share her views.

“Well, it’s not like we are going to harm them more!” Bilbo said slowly, turning Thrain’s gaze at him, “At least tell us how they are.”

“Alive,” was the clipped reply.

“Fili?” Bilbo pressed, desperate for the news.

“He is breathing,” he offered shortly.

Bilbo groaned as Dreya once again took the spotlight, “Please, Lord Thrain. You cannot do this.”

“When he awakens, and he wishes to see you, I will send for you myself,” Thrain said hauntingly, “But none of you is getting anywhere close to the sons of Durins.”

“oh for Yavannah’s sake!” groaned Bilbo, “We just want to know how they are doing! You are not telling us anything, you are not allowing us to see them!”

“You should not be allowed to do anything!” thundered Thrain, “You are the worst sort that there is! What are you even doing in this mountain?”

“I am a member of the Company!”

“Thorin banished you!” declared thrain, shaking in rage, “I heard him! You have no right being here! Get out! Now.”

“Sign’adad!” Vorin cried out, grabbing everyone’s attention, “He is injured! You can’t just throw him out!”

Thrain grumbled, a bit confused and even more shocked, “Well, well, of course, I can! He is no Dwarf!”

“There are Men and Elves residing in Erebor as of now,” Reya added dryly.

“Well, then he can go live with them!” Thrain declared, “If I see you or hear that you are with dwarves, I will personally throw you out! Tomorrow, I will tell Dain, Tomorrow you will be out of this settlement. Out, all of you!”

And with that, Thrain was gone, leaving behind two Iron Hill dwarrows guarding the archway./ They looked slightly sympathetic towards them, but they did not even bulge. Not even as Reya fixed them with a glare.

That was that.

* * *

“Thrain cannot throw you away!”

Bilbo shrugged. He was honestly too tired. Thrain as a King had the right to do whatever. Pushing through the Dwarven soldiers was the brightest of the idea, and from what he had heard, Dain was in favour of Thrain as long as no one spoke. He maintained a good working relationship with Dreya and worked logically with her, but even he did not dare to cross the old mad dwarf.

“What is his reason?” demanded Dori, “You are a member of the Company!”

“According to Thrain, Bilbo can live with men,” Nori said angrily, and how Nori had come to know the details of the conversation, Bilbo did not even try to know, “Because this mountain is for Dwarves and there are many. As men are too living in the mountain, he is basically pushing Bilbo away.”

“But why?”

“Because I betrayed him?” Bilbo added dryly.

“Because Thrain is prejudiced,” Bifur grunted angrily, “He does not like bowing to anyone, much like his father. He is not evil, but his mind is clouded.”

“Aye,” Bofur said, “Seen that. And if anyone has told him of what relationship you share with Thorin, he surely must have been angry about it.”

“I don’t care,” said Bilbo, “I am not going anywhere. If Lord Thrain thinks he can take me away from Thorin, he can pry my dead body from him.”

Everyone looked at Bilbo with some sort of pity. Nobody had a solution, exactly. They were all injured. The higher-ups like Balin and Dwalin were busy, and staging any sort of distraction, Bilbo worried, could cause much harm to the Dwarrows inside the Royals chamber than help.

“He cannot throw Bilbo away if he is a part of a family, aye?” Bifur said slowly.

Bilbo blinked, looking around in confusion.

“No,” said Nori, “but he cannot exactly claim any official relationship with anyone.”

Not until Thorin claimed him. Oh confound that dwraf. What was Bilbo thinking, falling in love with a Dwarf king? Why couldn’t he have found a normal Dwarf, or even perhaps a normal Hobbit?

Him and his foolish heart.

“Not what I meant,” grunted Bifur, “Bofur, Bombur, do you have any issue if we adopt Bilbo?”

Bilbo blinked, trying to take in what had just been saying. Everyone seemed to look at Bifur with some sort of understanding, except Bilbo.

“What?” asked Bilbo, flabbergasted.

Bofur and bombur shook their head at once, “Not at all cousin!”

“I am sorry, I am not a child!”

Bifur smiled kindly at Bilbo, “It matters not, Master Baggins. As the head of the Ur clan here, I can adopt you. Formally.”

Bilbo opened his mouth and closed it, like a goldfish. “But...what does that mean?”

“It means that we are your family,” Bofur said excitedly, “It means that no one can say a word against you. Thrain can’t seperate family, can he?”

Bilbo was not so convinced, “Not to sound ungrateful, but I don‘t want to cause trouble for you all.”

“Oh Bilbo,” Bombur put his hand across Bilbo’s shoulder, “You are family anyways! Everyone thinks so, don’t you?”

Shouts of agreement echoed in the house of Ri.

“And didn’t you say that you thought of us as Family to Thrain too?” Bofur said tesingly.

“Well then, it’s decided,” said Bifur, “We will adopt you.”

“Brilliant idea!” Dori said excitedly, “The Ur clan is well known in the Blue Mountains. Thrain wouldn’t do anything if he doesn’t wanna risk some people’s ire. Not that he seems to care, but well!”

Unable to blink back the tears, Bilbo cried in Bombur’s arms. Even after being away from the family he was born into and the family he had maried into, Bilbo was with people who cherished him. He could not shake away that love even if he tried.

* * *

It was late at night. No matter how much Bilbo shifted, he could not bring himself to sleep. Eventually giving up, Bilbo got up slowly and walked out of the bed. Somebody was up in the Ri house no matter what time.

This time it was Bifur, and he was sitting in the living room, smoking a pipe. As soon as he saw Bilbo though, he put the pipe away and helped the Hobbit settle down. Bilbo felt somewhat wrong in making the Dwarf work, but his injuries were clearly lesser than Bilbo’s.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Bifur asked softly.

“Thoughts plaguing my mind,” muttered Bilbo.

Bifur nodded in understanding. The two sat in silence as Bilbo and Bifur continued to be lost in thought.

It was finally Bilbo who broke the silence. “Bifur, can I ask you something?”

The Dwarf nodded, “Yes, of course.”

“We spent the Company barely talking,” said Bilbo, “You know very less of me, and I know lesser of you. Why would you offer to take me into your family?”

Bifur smiled, a kind smile which looked somewhat foreign on his face, “Bofur doesn’t trust easy, you know? He is friendly, but cautious. He trusts you. Bombur likes you. As of me, we have spent more time together than you would count. We have not talked becuase of that blasted axe, but we shared some moments. You treated me no differently than others. Even if you did not understand me. You are made of good stone. That is all that matters.”

Bilbo smiled. He truly was very kind. He couldn’t let the older dwarf accept him into the family without a few consequences, and Bilbo was sure he could tell Bifur the little secret, “There is something you ought to know before you do this formally.”

“Of course.”

Taking a deep breath, Bilbo looked down and said, “Thorin and I were not just lovers. We were married.”

Bifur remianed quiet. As silence stretched, Bilbo looked up. Bifur was looking at him expectantly. Taking a few deep breaths to calm his nerves, Bilbo said, “We met when he first came to the Shire. He worked as a Blacksmith, and after a, well, rather mischievous prank from my end, my grandfather and mother decided I was to work for him for at least a month. We grew close during then, and even after that. Next time he came to the Shire, he told me I was his One. Hobbits don’t Ones, but I do love him tremendously. We got married a few years later. I came on this quest only for him.”

The chair creaked, and bilbo looked up to see Bifur looking at him, rather troubled, “What you tell me then, Bilbo, is that you are potentially a Consort?”

Bilbo shrugged, “Thorin liked to think so. But politics, apparently.”

Bifur seemed to understand that well, “Master Thorin was wise to keep you away from Ered Luin then. It would have been most perilous for you. Some would wish harm upon you, and all of Durins. But why keep it from us?”

Bilbo shook his head, “I don’t think Balin and others were very in favour of me being with the King. They wnated us to be happy, no doubt, but they were also cautious about the technical aspects of it.”

“Love is love.”

Bilbo shrugged helplessly.

Bifur sighed, “Thank you for telling me. It does not change my decision. However, there is something much important then.”

As Bilbo looked curiously at him, Bifur explained, “Lord Tharin cannot keep you and Master Thorin apart. You are each other’s One. If nothing, you would give each other’s strength. Worry not, Bilbo, we will rectify this matter very soon.”


	30. Save you (I will not lose you)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am moving tomorrow, and assignment deadlines begin too. So here's an update. Forgive me for the small break, and for what is to come. 
> 
> TW: Angst
> 
> Keep tissues handy

The morning came like any other. Erebor awoke at once, thousand of Dwarven voices rising together. Before the sun could even rise, Dwarven Healers moved around the mountain, starting with their patients. There were many injured, among the natives and the Iron Hills Dwarves.

Oin had dedicated every breathing moment to the Royal Quarters. That was a known fact. After days of working till the end of his breath, so much so that his brother sometimes forced him to sleep, his work was finally yielding results.

It began with the waking up of Lord Frerin.

The thing was, it wasn’t really a surprise. Frerin had taken the least of wounds. His sleep was more out of exhaustion than injuries, if Oin had to guess. Since the moment the Company had entered the Mountain, the Golden King had not exactly had a moment to relax. With Men, and Dragon Sickness, and negotiations and whatnot, ending with war, it was only logical that the dwarf would fall into a deep sleep.

Two and a half weeks was a bit excessive, but that’s fine.

The first thing that Frerin did after waking up was to ask about his family. Oin took some hidden pleasure in seeing the old King Thrain grumble as he tried to placate his younger son. Frerin, however, was having none of that.

“Where is my wife?” he demanded, ignoring the pain in his body, “And my children? Are they well? Alive?”

In the end, Thrain had to give up. He sent for Lady Dreya and her children when Frerin began to climb off the bed. Oin knew it would not harm the lad a lot, but he did not need to tell Thrain that.

When the family reunited, Oin slipped out to give the family much-needed privacy. Thrain left too- he had to. By the way his pale features turned red, Oin could tell embarrassment reigned his features.

Next to wake up was Kili. Again, not a surprise. The lad had been drifting in and out of consciousness for a while. In his delirious state, he talked a lot, especially to the red-headed elf who refused to leave his side.

Oin was proud to say he had witnessed a rather embarrassing moment where the prince was waxing half baked poetry for the Elf, and when the time would come, the whole Company would know of it.

The waking up that truly surprised Oin and left him with relief was possibly Fili. He woke soon after his brother, grumbling in pain. The Poor lad had hurt his spine, and Oin was not sure of the extent of movement he would be able to take.

But Fili proved his misgivings wrong, for, within a few hours, Fili was sitting up on the bed. Walking was out of the question, and it would take ages for his legs to handle his weight, if he ever did that was. Fili looked aghast at the news, but Kili was happy at having his brother alive.

“You made it after the fall, nadad,” Kili said with a tired smile, “When you...fell...I thought...”

“Shh,” Fili said softly, running a hand through Kili’s matter hair, “I am here and I am alive.”

Losing mobility had sure put a damp on his mood, but he still tried to put on a brave face for those around him. Having been treating those dwarves since they were mere pebbles, Oin recognized the signs. He ignored it at the moment- those problems would be dealt with when the moment came.

The happiest recovery would have been that of Thorins. Oin was redoing Fili’s bandages when one of the young healers of Erebor barged in.

“What is it?” Oin grumbled.

“Prince, prince Thorin!” he shouted, half awed and half worried, “he awoke!”

It barely took him a moment to leave Fili in the able hands of other healers and rush to the room. It was noon already, and Oin had had a busy morning. Ending the first half of his day with Thorin waking up would have been brilliant.

When the door opened, Oin saw Thrain hovering over Thorin’s bed like a mother bird. Everyone got a glare, but he gladly let Oin through.

It did not take long for Oin to guess what was wrong. Thorin was awake, yes. His eyes were open, and he was constantly murmuring something. His chest was rising and falling. His heart was beating.

But it was all too wrong.

Thorin's breath was erratic at best. His eyes were clouded. The words that left his mouth made no sense to Oin or even the Healers who could speak clearly. His temperature was dropping. The biggest worry for Oin was that Thorin perhaps awoke far too soon. He needed to rest more, but if he hadn’t woken up, there was a chance that he never would.

All in all, it was a very comprising situation.

* * *

On the other side of the mountain, the morning had begun with a ritual.

It was nothing grand, though not for the lack of want. Erebor was still rebuilding, and basic necessities were scarce at best. When any clan adopted a member, it was a grand celebration with music, dance and food. People were valued among dwarrows.

But Bilbo’s adoption into the Ur clan went as plainly as possible. Dori had put together a small feast along with Bombur. When Bilbo had dressed up in simple Dwarves garb- tunic, breeches and socks, on the insistence of Dori- the oldest RI brother had sort of broken into tears. When he sat down to get his hair braided, the ur clan had sung something in their deep voices. Ori explained it was the vow of keeping him safe as they sang, and Bilbo himself burst into tears every few seconds.

The ceremony was done simply, but Bifur promised a bigger celebration soon after Erebro was restored. Bilbo merely nodded, getting tired at thinking how many celebrations Dwarrows had on a monthly basis. It sounded much like Hobbit birthday parties if he was being honest.

The ceremony ended with the Urs gifting Bilbo a dark blue coat. It was a welcome present, and Bofur took immense glee in putting it on Bilbo. The belt was forsaken for the purpose of Bilbo’s back injuries and pregnant state, but an old belt of Bofur was gifted to him as well.

All in all, they were done with the ritual part of it by midday.

After a hearty lunch, the Ur and the Ri’s decided it was time to step out of the house and confront Thrain. None of them had a very good idea on what they were going to do exactly, but the enthusiasm was enough, It reminded Bilbo of the Company on the first day in his smial.

They moved with the purpose of fighting, but when they reached the Royal wings, the Dwarrows and one Hobbit were greeted with another sight altogether.

Unlike the previous day, no soldiers guarded the archway. Taking it as a sign, Nori lead the whole group inside, Bofur and Bombur supporting Bilbo.

There were shouts as they passed a few rooms, but nothing substantial. Bilbo was surrounded by Dwarrows, and could hardly see a thing. It was finally when everyone came to a halt when he peeped between the two to see an old friend.

“Balin!”

The older dwarf looked for the source of voice among the dwarrows. It was on his second try that he spotted bilbo’s face peeping from between the ur brothers.

Balin smiled tiredly at Bilbo and opened his mouth to greet him. But then his eyes landed on the Bilbo’s hair, and his garb and an inevitable gasp left him.

He turned to the older Ur cousin, “Bifur, is that...”

“Bilbo is a part of the clan,” Bifur confirmed, earning a shocked yet somewhat pleased look from Balin, “He is here to meet Thorin like all of us.”

Balin’s shoulders dropped at that. At the moment, he looked his age. The wrinkles that were often pronounced due to his smiling were now showing the weight on his shoulders.

“My friends,” he began, “It is not in my hand. Frerin and Thrain do not think of me the same as Thorin, not that I blame them. The Princes are weak, and we are all on the same boat.”

“But you have seen him, aye?” asked Bofur, peaking over Bifur’s shoulder.

Balin nodded.

“How is he?” asked Bilbo, desperate for any news.

“I will not lie to you laddie,” said Balin, “Oin says nothing. Thorin looks worse for wear, and had it not been for Oin’s insistence...”

As Balin let his words falter, Bilbo’s heart sank. He couldn’t possibly be telling the truth, could he?

“Master Balin,” came Dori’s voice, “You have to allow Bilbo to meet Thorin.”

“It’s not in my hand, Master Dori,” Balin said sadly, “I wish, oh how I wish it was. But lord Thrain is hovering over his son like a hawk, and Lord Frerin is far too weak to say anything.”

“he is awake?” Bilbo asked softly, “Frerin?”

Balin nodded, “Awoke this morning, so did Fili and Kili.”

“Fili and Kili??”

“Oh Mahal!”

“That’s great!”

The excitement that had overtaken the group was squashed as their voices attracted the attention of lord Thrain. The door not far from them burst open, and out came the old mad dwarf, glaring at the lot of them.

Bilbo tried to put on a brave front, but Thrain’s eyes burned in rage as he saw him.

“Did I not banish you? Guards!”

“he is one of us!” Bifur said loudly, earning a glare from the old king, “One of my clan.”

“He is a Halfling.”

“Hobbit,” corrected Bofur almost immediately, “And aye, even then, eh si one of us. He ha steh braid to prove it.”

As the other muttered their agreements, Thrain frowned at the Hobbit’s head.

“he didn’t have that yesterday?”

“Does it matter?” demanded Bifur, “I have accepted him as a member of the clan. He stays with us.”

“he has no place here!”

“I very well have!”

Bilbo’s raised voice made everyone turn their attention to him. So far, Bilbo had remained quiet, letting the other fight his battles, but enough was enough. Thrain was being unbearable and Bilbo was losing his patience.

“I have every right to be here,” said bilbo, standing tall and firm. Even though he was shorter than Thrain, he posed an imposing figure, “I am Thorin’s One, and I intend to see him!”

Bilbo’s proclamation stunned many, but none made a sound against him. Thrain sneered, shaking his head.

“You? My son’s One? Ha, you can dream!”

Bilbo curled his fist. If he had not bee Thorin’s father...

The moment, however, was cut short as the door behind them burst open. Everyone turned to see Frerin walkout, supported by Dreya and Reya as Vorin walked around. Then the very next door beside the Company flew open, and Kili’s pale face popped out.

“What is happened here?” he demanded, his voice hoarse.

No one really paid attention to his question, everyone was too glad to see him alive. There were cheers, and then Kili shut the door. Bilbo wondered if they had pissed the poor boy off, but the very next moment, the door opened and the Durin princes appeared on the doorway.

Bilbo’s breath hitched as he saw Fili. Contrary to the last time he had seen him, Fili looked much more alive, if a bit bruised. He saw on a movable chair, which was being pushed around by a young healer. Kili used the chair’s support to stand, and looked at everyone with interest.

When his eyes landed on Bilbo, Kili’s face lit up. Fili saw him too, and he looked most relieved.

Before any reconciliations could take place, however, the door to Thorin’s room burst open, and out came Oin with Dwalin and Gloin.

Everyone turned their attention to them. It was quite a crowded corridor, with everyone Bilbo could think fo present in the near vicinity. Everyone held their breath, waiting for news of Thorin.

Oin looked around, letting out a deep sigh. When he spoke up, softly, Bilbo’s heart shattered.

“I believe you all ought to see him once at least. He will not make it.”

There was a gasp. Someone cried. Thrain let out a loud ‘No’ and pushed Oin away, trailing into Thorin’s room as he owned it. Balin and Dwlain ran after him, and Fili and Kili hastily made their way inside next.

Bilbo looked at Oin, blinking. “What, what do you mean by he will not make it?”

Oin’s eyes finally landed at Bilbo. He looked at him with pity, shaking his head, “He is not trying lad. It’s almost as if he is ready to give up.”

“Give up, what? Thorin, giving up?”

“His injuries haven’t healed,” Oin informed him and the rest of the Company, “yet he awakens. He needs time, but if he falls back asleep I doubt he would ever wake up again.”

Bilbo staggered back. He could have fallen, and it was only Bofur’s arms which allowed him to stand up.

Thorin...no. That could not possibly be right.

The other moved in, wanting to see Thorin. Unlike just a few moments ago, when the corridor had been full, it now stood empty barring Bilbo and Bombur.

Bilbo heard the voices from inside the room. They were mourning already. But Thorin wasn’t dead. Not yet.

Despite himself, Bilbo felt his hand rest on his stomach. Twice, he had lost his children. It had made him somewhat numb. He was not expecting this small miracle to live either, not after everything going on.

But they just could, and so could Thorin. And Bilbo would be damned if he did not try.

Bilbo let his Bombur move him to the room. Nobody stopped him as he stepped inside.

Thrain was on the side, clearly disgruntled to see Bilbo. But he did not rise, mourning for his son already. Frerin sat on a chair, far away, almost expecting it. His wife stood beside him, not as teary-eyed as him, yet clearly affected. Reya and Vorin looked awkward at best, sad to lose a family yet not being able to grieve someone they did not even know.

Balin and Dwalin stood by Kiri, beside Thrain. Oin was held by Gloin, shaking uncontrollably. They cried for their cousin, their King. For a dwarf not dead yet.

On one side, Ori, Dori and Nori stood huddled together, and not so far away stood Bifur and Bofur. They looked at Bilbo, Bifur and Nori’s gaze more knowing and saddened than the others.

Bilbo freed himself from Bombur and walked on, his eyes fixed ahead. Nobody offered Bilbo any words or any help. Bilbo preferred it that way.

Fili and Kili, bandages wrapping their body, their hair matted and unkempt, stood near the bed. Fili’s chair was pushed to the side his eyes filled with tears. Their gaze met Bilbo’s, both looked pleading. Bilbo blinked back the tears, slowly running his hand through the boys’ head.

Fili wrapped his arms around Bilbo, sobbing uncontrollably. Kili held on to his brother as Bilbo lay a hand over his heads. He closed his eyes, praying to Yavannah for strength. He could not do it, not just like that.

When he next opened his eyes, Bilbo looked at Thorin.

The last he had seen his foolish Husband, he was wearing heavy armour, fighting the bane of his life. Now, Thorin lay bare-chested. His braids were open, and it was wrong.

Nobody should be allowed to see Thorin like that. It was a sight that only Bilbo could see, as his Husband.

Yet there he lay, his abdomen covered in a bandage. His skin was pale, as white as the snow falling outside. He stood out against the dark stone of the mountain, looking unreal, not belonging.

Thorin’s eyes were half-open. He could see everything, Bilbo was sure of that.

His chest rose up slowly and fell even slower.

It reminded Bilbo of his mother on her last day.

Thorin moved, just barely, to look at Bilbo. He could feel his gaze. A small, tired smile appeared on his face. He tried to raise his hand, to extend his hands to the Hobbit, but no avail.

Bilbo pulled away from the boys, eyes locked at his Husband. The two brothers immediately stepped back, Fili moving away from the chair.

“Bilbo.”

It was quiet, so quiet, yet Bilbo heard it. He took those big hands in his own, feeling the callouses against his own. His own hands used to be soft once, but not anymore.

They weren’t so different now.

“I am so sorry, _Ghivashel_ ,” Thorin said slowly, bringing Bilbo closer, “I failed you.”

“No,” said Bilbo, and he himself was truly surprised at how loud and firm his voice sounded. “You have not failed me, Thorin Oakenshield.”

“I led you into such peril,” he said, looking at Bilbo with the same sad smile, “Away from the comforts of our home.”

Bilbo’s chest ached. He had no home, not away from Thorin. Bag End was a relic of the past, and it was always Thorin who let him feel alive.

“You did no such thing,” said Bilbo, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Space was less and uncomfortable, and he would do much better on a chair, but Bilbo needed to feel his Thorin’s warmth. Whatever was left of it. “I followed you, _ghivashel_ , I followed you. Like I said I would.”

Someone gasped, but Bilbo paid them no mind. Thorin smiled more, clutching Bilbo’s hands tighter. Bilbo held on, leaning forward a bit, “And I would do it all over again if it means spending time with you and staying with you.”

A drop of tear fell from the side of Thorin’s face. Bilbo immediately wiped it away. There should be no need for tears. They would be fine.

“Forgive me,” whispered Thorin, “For all that I did.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Bilbo said, his voice finally cracking, “Nothing at all. Do you hear me, Thorin? Northing. That wasn’t you, it was the sickness, and it’s gone. And you are going to get better. You are going to hold on to the promises you have made.”

“No,” said Thorin, a bit louder, but not kingly enough, and it broke Bilbo’s heart, “I see the Halls, Bilbo. They are beautiful.”

Bilbo held on tightly to Thorin’s hand, shaking his head. The tears escaped his own eyes, and he could do nothing to wipe them away.

“I see it,” Thorin said, his eyes moving away, “I wish to see my Grandfather, my mother. Perhaps, I will see Edis and Bain.”

The cry that bubbled up in his throat was choking him. Bilbo shut his mouth and closed his eyes, letting the tears fall. He could not do it, not like that.

Thorin never said their names, no matter what.

He never wanted to give them names.

“I can feel them calling to me.”

“No, no, no!” Bilbo shook his head, his voice growing louder. He looked at Thorin, the life pulling away from his body. Bilbo inched closer, still shaking his head, “Thorin, no!”

“Forgive me, _ghivashel_ , for I have done you many wrongs.”

“No, Thorin!” Bilbo immediately reached out for both of Thorin’s hands and pulled it to his stomach. A rational part of his mind told him that it was stupid, that there were people around who knew nothing about Thorin and him and who definitely did not know of their child.

The other part of him begged him to let Thorin know of the miracle. It was getting late.

“Thorin,” Bilbo said hurriedly, his voice breaking, his breath ragged, “You feel the call our children, but it’s not Edis and Bain. It’s not.”

He pressed Thorin’s hand firmly on his still flat stomach. Bilbo knew there was nothing there yet, that Thorin would not feel anything. But Hobbits believed that parents could feel their children since the very beginning.

If it was true, and Bilbo prayed that it was, then he wanted Thorin to feel that.

For a moment, nothing happened. Bilbo continued to look at Thorin’s face. It remained passive, looking up at the ceiling.

Then, Thorin blinked. Much faster than before. His eyes looked clearer.

“Thorin,” Bilbo’s voice cracked completely, his cries loud, “Thorin, listen to me. It’s not Edis and Bain. It’s someone else, who hopes to see you.”

Slowly, Thorin moved his head. They two locked gaze, and oh how long had it been since Thorin had looked at him like that.

How long it had been since Thorin would stare at him with those blue eyes, those eyes filled with love. Just looking at him, and Bilbo would look back. They would hold hands, or perhaps not. Their hands would trail in the gleaming hair of the other in the golden sun, a laughter filling the room.

It had been ages since they had truly been in love with each other, and Bilbo would give everything to have that time once again.

“I have buried my mother and father, Thorin,” Bilbo said, his voice firm, “I have buried two of our children, and I will be damned if I have to bury another whom I love so dearly.”

Thorin’s breath began to fasten, and Bilbo held tightly to him, “If I have a chance if I truly can do something about this, it will not be you or this little one growing within me who will be buried in the stone.”

Thorin’s eyes widened, and Bilbo closed all the gap between him and Thorin. They were so close, Bilbo could see the small beard growing a bit, “Edis and Bain can wait. They have their grandparents and great grandparents looking after them. We need you here.”

It was then that Bilbo finally looked up around the room. The stillness was expected if they had followed half of what he had said.

He looked at Thrain, eyes widened like a ghost, skin pale, mouth parted in shock.

“Your father,” Bilbo said, looking back at Thorin, “who spent years in captivity. Your father on whom you never gave up. Who came back for his son. You cannot leave him now, Thorin.”

“Frerin, your younger brother, who lived all this long thinking you were gone. Do you remember how he cried when he realized who you were? It was not so that he could lose you!”

Thorin turned his head to see him. Frerin had his face buried in his wife’s bosom, shaking uncontrollably.

“What about Dis?” demanded Bilbo, turning Thorin’s attention back to him, “What about your baby sister? What about her, who is still in Ered Luin, hoping to hear from her brother?”

Bilbo looked up at the Princes, who were watching with wide eyes. He beckoned them closer and turned back to his husband. “Fili and Kili, your nephews in name but your sons in the heart. You have told that me more often than not. They have lost their Adad once, they cannot lose you! Fili is not ready and you will not leave him unless he is ready. He is not, Thorin, your son is not ready.”

Fili held Thorin’s shoulder, Kili held on to his arm. The two brothers sobbed, letting their tears fall on Thorin’s bed.

Bilbo dropped further and he leaned forward. Reigning his voice, loudly, Bilbo said, “And me, your husband, your One. You promised me, Thorin Oakenshield, that you will watch me grow old.”

Shaking his head, Bilbo made sure that Thorin’s other hand was pressed on his stomach “And now, here’s a little one, who might just grow. Who might just live. And I want them to know their _Adad_. We need you here. Don’t, please, do not go.”

His own voice was lost as he pleaded. Bilbo fell on his husband’s chest, tears streaming through his eyes. His throat constricted, every wail making his body shake.

Bilbo could not lose Thorin. He could not.

When things are said and done, the silence that follows is deafening. Such was the silence in the room of Thorin.

In that silence, Thorin’s breath became louder. Despite the cries, those who knew what to listen to heard the change. Oin looked up form his brother’s arms, watching the Dwarf-King.

The older dwarf immediately rushed to Thorin. There were shouts, there were cries, and it wasn’t until Bofur was pulling Bilbo away that he realized it was just a few of them left-back.

“No!” he cried, “You are not taking me away from him!”

“Bilbo!” Bofur shook the Hobbit, “you need to let Oin work! He can save Thorin! Come!”

Bilbo shook his head. He turned, looking at the pale face of his Husband. Breaking free from Bofur’s hold, Bilbo cupped Thorin’s face.

“Thorin. Look at me. I need you to look at me.”

Even in his delirious status, Thorin followed Bilbo’s words.

“I need you to come back to me, do you understand? I do not care what you do or how you do it? You are coming back. You are going to hold our child when they are born. You are going to live. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Bilbo.”

“Good.” Bilbo nodded, tears clouding his vision, “I am now going to go out and Oin is going to work and you are going to work too. I will be damned if you refuse to get better. All right?”

Thorin merely nodded.

Bilbo nodded too, before grabbing Bofur’s hand and walking out as if he was in charge of the process.

Chaos reigned outside. Thrain was shouting, Frerin was shouting, and Fili and Kili were crying. Everywhere he looked, Bilbo could only see chaos.

“Bilbo?” Bofur said softly.

Bilbo turned to look at him.

Something broke inside him. It was perhaps his friend’s forever happy face finally showing the hint of sadness, or maybe the weight of what had truly happened. He did not know what it was.

But Bilbo fell into Bofur’s arms and screamed.

Every living being froze when the cries of Bilbo Baggins reached their ears. He had wrapped his arms around Bofur’s tunic, and Bilbo was bawling. The Dwarves who stood close by shuddered and moved away as if trying to distance themselves from the pain. No matter how they tried, they couldn’t succeed. Each harboured tears in their own eyes.

The Elves that worked there could feel the pain searing through their hearts. Such was the life of a mortal, doomed to end. It was easy for them to move on, to look forward to seeing they're loved once. But every once in a while, they would see what death could do to those around them.

The Men shuddered, shielding their children’s ears when the faint cry reached their tents. It was not enough. Many felt their own eyes water for the comrades, the friends, and the family they had lost.

And Bilbo? Bilbo cried.

He cried for the worried Bungo and the lovely Belladonna. He cried for Bag End, the beautiful hole in a hill which was his childhood home. He cried for Edis, who never saw the world. He cried for Bain, who was barely able to live for a day.

He cried for Thorin. He cried for all the times his husband did not. For the loss of his family, one after the other. For the fear, he felt whenever they faced peril. For all that he had to endure.

He cried for his unborn children. For someone who might never know their other father. For someone who just might never know their own world, like their siblings before.

Bilbo cried and he could not bring himself to stop. There was nothing for him to stop for.

Thorin was dying.

Bilbo did not care for anything else at the moment.

He had no more screams left in him. No more anger, or resentment, or worry, or sadness, or despair.

Bilbo had nothing to give.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No kidding, I cried while I was writing this chapter.


	31. Tell the truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://open.spotify.com/track/3Frn3MJRQFvjCIbTbBUZCS?si=RKxxFn7yS2673HwiWHWuaA
> 
> Hey so this song is in Hindi, but I felt like the lyrics are really relevant to the the characters. It's almost something like Bilbo is speaking to Thorin. The crux is that the singer is asking the beloved to open up, to enjoy the moments and assuring them that they are going to follow them wherever they go. The main line literally means 'I will go wherever you go'. So, hear it out. If you want line by line translation, let me know! I will be happy to do it and tell you why I thought this song fit Thilbo so well. Think of it as an apology after the angst from the last chapter 😚
> 
> Anyways...lots of talking, lots of drama, Bilbo being BAMF and some relief. Only two more chapters to go EEEEEEP! It's scary, being so close to the end.
> 
> BTW, if any of you have read Henry V, please do contact. Your poor gal is failing British lit this sem :(

Bilbo woke, vaguely aware of shouting around him. His back ached, but his head hurt more from the shouting.

“I demand answers!” Thrain seemed to be shouting. Again. He liked doing that a lot, clearly. If they were in his Smial, he would have shut Thrain in one of the rooms at the back, near the garden. He could also let him meet Lobelia- now that would be a shouting match worth seeing.

“Allow him to rest,” came Frerin’s calm voice, “He has faced the war like the rest of us, Father. He is not made for it.”

Damn right he wasn’t. Years of Hobbits saying war was for other folks made sense. What wouldn’t Bilbo give for his garden, his books and his father’s armchair...

It was Fili’s voice which next reached his ears, “And whatever questions you have for Bilbo can wait, Grandfather.”

That was like music to his ears. Bilbo at once opened his eyes. His face eyes fell on the Line of Durin, and all the happening of the past days came crawling up to him.

The sight that welcomed him was that of a madness. The Royal corridor was by no means narrow, and Bilbo was sure a horse cart could easily make its way across. But at the moment, it looked full. The first one in front of his eyes, sadly, was Thrain. Beside him, on the opposite wall, sat Frerin, resting his back to the wall. Dreya and Reya, mother and daughter stood on each side, glaring at Thrain.

Fili in his chair and Kili beside him stood between Thrain and Bilbo, almost as if protecting Bilbo from the mad old dwarf. The Company was scattered, some sitting down on the ground, others standing nervously in the madness.

“I am up, I am up,” said Bilbo, sitting up. Bofur gave him a pat as he stretched his arms.

To Bilbo’s delight, Gandalf was there, smoking his pipe some steps away. He smiled gently at Bilbo and gave a wary glance to Thrain.

To his surprise, Tauriel was there, standing stiff and looked majorly out of place among the dwarves.

Much like Bilbo himself.

Sighing, Bilbo stood up, facing the Company and the Line of Durin. All eyes were on him, looking at him as if they had never seen him before. Which was extremely rude.

“What?” he asked tiredly.

“What? WHAT?” Thrain all but stormed up to him. Despite being malnourished and tortured to insanity, he felt like all bits of King that- that Thorin did, and wasn’t that a dreadful thought? “You did something to my son in there. You told him things! You, you put spells on him!”

Bilbo looked at Thrain, unimpressed. “I think the words you are looking for are ‘Thank you’. For potentially saving his life.”

Someone coughed, some chuckled, but Bilbo’s face was stuck on Thrain’s, who was glaring down at Bilbo.

Honestly, if he wasn’t Thorin’s father, Bilbo would have walked out.

“Look,” Bilbo said tiredly, “If you have any other contention with me except my existence as a Hobbit, I am willing to give you your answers. But if you continue to hate me for me being me, I am afraid I have nothing to say or prove to you.”

That gave Thrain a pause. Clearly, nobody had called him out on his prejudices before, and from what Bilbo remembered, he did not even have to deal with Men as much as Thorin did.

“You called Thorin ‘husband’,” said Thrain, a bit muffled at being called out like that, “Explain yourself.”

Bilbo sighed. “I think the word is pretty self explanatory, don’t you think?”

“You are no royal,” surprisingly, that was Frerin, who looked hesitant even while speaking, “You are no Dwarf. You have no say on the Throne of Erebor.”

Bilbo frowned, turning to Frerin. “I...I am well aware of that?”

“Then what lies have you spun for my son? What have you been hoping to get out of this arrangement? Whatever you had hoped for through this marriage, Halfling, I assure you, you will get none!”

Bilbo could feel the anger bubble up inside him. He involuntarily clutched his fists, and breathed heavily. He stepped up, almost standing toe to toe with the Dwarf, before spitting out, “How dare you.”

Thorin had once said that the Hobbit’s anger could scare great dwarves. Bilbo had laughed and said that he could stop with his teasing.

Now, looking at Thrain’s widening eyes, some part of him realized that Thorin was indeed not joking.

“How dare you assume that I married your son for some richly gains!” spat Bilbo, looking into the older Dwarf’s eyes, “I love Thorin with all my heart and I will love him till the very end of my life. The only reason I am here, on this quest, is because HE had to reclaim this mountain. I have no interest in whatever riches you think I have!”

“Then why did you steal the Arkenstone?” demanded Thrain, albeit scared but still standing tall. Bilbo’s breath hitched as Thrain continued, “If not for money then what? Power? Alliance?”

“FOR LOVE!” shouted Bilbo, and everyone in the near vicinity winced. Vorin was ready to speak up, but his mother held him back as Bilbo shouted, “That, that bloody damned stone that you put so highly above your own head? IT WAS DESTROYING MY HUSBAND! IT WAS DESTROYING BOTH YOUR SONS! IT WAS EVEN DESTROYING YOU!”

When he looked around, he was Vorin struggling to say something. Bilbo shook his head- Vorin’s deeds would come out once this madness was over. Thrain already hated everyone, giving him a reason would do no help.

“You don’t see it, do you?” Bilbo demanded, looking between Thrain and Frerin, “Both of you! The Gold-Sickness was not just all that gold in your treasury which Smaug had overtaken. It was that bloody stone! Balin knows it!”

All eyes turned to Balin. He blanched at being put on spot, but nodded nevertheless as Bilbo continued.

“I never knew King Thror, but every story, every tale, from Thorin, from Balin or even from Thranduil, every single one of them talk about the madness that began once your bloody father found that shiny rock! The gold might be cursed by the dragon, but this madness began from that damned shine Arkenstone. I have no, no damn interest in the Arkenstone, or, or in sapphires, or in any of the gold you might have to offer! I have no interest in the bloody Throne, or in being the Consort or Prince whatever the hell it is that you Dwarves have! All I care about is Thorin, my husband, my love, who is right now dying because of his own stupidity and others around him. Everyone else be damned!”

Bilbo let out a deep staggering breath. He placed his hand on his chest, trying to calm down his erratic heart. He leaned on someone, probably Bofur, when Balin spoke up. His words were hesitant, a bit confused, and definitely curious.

“Laddie, you are not married to Thorin.”

Bilbo wasn’t able to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Balin continued, “I know you two share you affections-”

“We are married, Balin,” Bilbo said softly, but firmly, “Thorin and I are married by Hobbit customs. I said my vows to him in front of my family, and he braided my hair in the presence of the Thain. We had a lovely house in the Shire, Bag End, which you Dwarrows so gladly destroyed the first time you came there.”

“But,” It was Ori who spoke up this time, “But when? When did you have time during this quest?”

That made Bilbo laugh. It wasn’t funny, not anymore. He knew of Thorin’s reasons, he knew of the possible reaction- he knew it all. But years of secrets and hiding was enough. Just enough.

“Not during this quest,” Bilbo said, “No, no. Thorin and I have been married for the past ten years.”

Chaos descended upon the group. Everyone had something to say. Dwalin looked ready to murder someone, probably him, or maybe Thorin. Balin was wide eyed, spluttering what not. Everyone else was confused. Bifur let the madness reign, sharing a glance with Nori. Both Fili and Kili took the scene with scrutiny, as if ready to jump whoever would dare to say a word. Bilbo hoped neither would, since they were still recovering.

Thrain, aghast, turned to the princes, “Did you know about this? Does Dis know?”

“Sort of,” Fili spoke up, sitting up straight, “ _Amad_ has been as ignorant of this situation as the rest of you. Uncle told us of this when-”

“When I found Bilbo’s marriage bead,” cut in Kili, looking at everyone with the same glare as his brother. “Uncle told us the truth, and made us promise that we would not tell a soul. He also told us that Bilbo was his One, and he intended to make Bilbo his consort.”

Bilbo sighed. Not the consort debate again. “Kili...”

“No, he is right!” Fili said, looking at everyone in challenge. Nobody rose to that, thankfully, “Uncle married Bilbo, and he had to hide him. Those who lived in Ered Luin know what struggles Ereborians had to go through daily. Uncle kept his marriage quiet, only to keep those he loved safe.”

“That’s not how it works, Fili,” Frerin said, not unkindly.

“Living as a blacksmith to feed his people is also not how it works, Frerin,” Fili said icily, “Turning your back on your allies after they have gone through hell is also not how it works. Caring for a whole of kingdom alone is not how it works. In fact, living under an alive dragon and handling a kingdom is also not how it happens, Uncle. But it happened.”

Nobody had a response to that, least of all the Durins. Fili turned to the Company, his voice loud and firm, “Our King has given up more than anybody else to ensure our life was comfortable. He has done menial jobs for our well being; he has bowed to the will of men and he has never complained! Just once, just once he turned to his heart’s wishes. Even then, in respect to our ways and to protect the ones close to him, he never brought Bilbo home, never introduced him as his husband, treated him as someone else and I could see how much it hurt him. Does he not deserve his happiness after everything he has done?”

Bilbo couldn’t help but smile. Fili might be young, and have much to learn, but he spoke like his Uncle.

“Thorin and Bilbo have lost more than others,” said Kili, “Do you not think they deserve their peace?”

A murmur ran through the dwarrows. Some nodded, other looked puzzled. Thrain looked defeated, as if Bilbo’s words were finally making sense to him. He leaned on the door, and Bilbo took a deep breath.

“Look,” he said, “Whatever happens, I am not going anywhere. Thorin is my Husband, he is the love of my life, and right now is lying on that bed, fighting for his life. I honestly don’t care what any of you think should be happening right now, because all of that is irrelevant. It’s not about Thorin Oakenshield, the King, the leader anymore. It is about Thorin Baggins, my Husband who was accepted into the Shire like one of our own. The mysterious blacksmith who showed up every spring and stayed halfway till Autumn. You, you think you know all, or that you should know all but you do not, all right?”

Bilbo’s eyes teared up, “When he proposed, he told me what all was possible and what not. I married him knowing I would be a secret in his life. And you know what? I don’t mind it. What I do mind is, any of you thinking you have a say in his life, or mine. That you have a say in our relationship. Even if I wasn’t married to him, Lord Thrain, even if I wasn’t his One, you have no right to stop me from seeing him. Or any of us for that matter.”

Thrain looked at Bilbo heatedly, but he did not say a word. Bilbo huffed, looking at the Company. He smiled sadly, shaking his head, “When I was young, I thought my love would be enough. It was foolish, yes, but it was what it was. I joined this quest, thinking at the end I would be standing beside Thorin’s tomb. I never thought, never even wondered what it would bring to me. But now that he is so close to death, I realize I am not ready to say goodbye.”

Bilbo turned to Thrain and Frerin, and as softly as he could, he said “I am not going to bring bad name to your family. I have put no spells on Thorin, no more than he has on me.”

Sighing, Bilbo looked down on his hands. Tears escaped from his eyes yet again, and Bilbo did not even try to stop them. It was not a day for smiles, after all.

It was Balin who approached him, head bowed, eyes downcast. He held Bilbo’s forearm, and shook his head, “Forgive us, laddie. We thought, the love between you and Thorin-”

“I know what you thought,” Bilbo cut kindly, looking at Balin, “Thorin told me. You would find that we tend to share most things. I will not lie, it was hilarious at the moment.”

Turning to Dwalin and the others, Bilbo said, “You must have thought yourselves to be such wise people, getting a married couple together. What a feat.”

That elicited a somehwhat subdued smile from half of the Company. It was stupid, and funny. There were so many bets that were placed. It felt like a distant memory now.

Balin just smiled, pressing Bilbo’s shoulders more firmly. Bilbo sniffed, wiping his nose from his sleeve- and wasn’t he being most improper- and looked up at the rest of the dwarves.

“You said there was a child with you.”

Bilbo froze at Frerin’s voice. He had almost forgotten about the dwarf.

Frerin continued to frown. “I heard you, Master Baggins. You told Thorin of bearing a child.”

“Well,” sniffed Bilbo, “Yes. Yes I did.”

“Are you a lass in disguise then?” asked Frerin, somewhat confused.

Bilbo shook his head. “Ah, well, it’s complicated.”

Those who knew just shared a knowing glance, others looked baffled. Even Tauriel was frowning. Gandalf looked amused, more than anything else.

After a long period of silence, Bilbo cleared his throat and said, “Well, in the Shire, there is a story of a Took taking a fairy wife. That usually explains why Tooks are a mischievous lot. It has also, well, given Hobbits of the Took line some special abilities.”

“Like?” demanded Gloin.

“Like...greater height than other hobbits, male being able to bear...we are a fertile race.”

Nobody said a word. Several pairs of eyes continued to blink numbly at Bilbo. As the silence continued to stretch, Bilbo sniffed and nodded.

“Well, all right. Not that I did not enjoy this conversation, but that I am rather tired. Has Oin come out yet?”

Gloin shook his head rather swiftly and Bilbo gave another stiff nod.

“Then I shall go and sit there, waiting for him to give news about my Husband.”

He turned, ready to settle down comfortably before a thought struck in his mind and he turned.

“And could you all not stare at me?”

The reaction was immediate. Everyone began to scramble about, talking in hushed tones and remembering all sorts of works. Bilbo settled down on the stone bench yet again, his eyes on his lap.

He ignored the commotion around him, his attention fixed on the door beside him. Oin had said...he had said that Thorin might just live. But as time passed, Bilbo began to feel exhausted. The day was stretching far beyond his control, and he felt useless, sitting there, doing nothing.

“The children of Yavannah are truly blessed.”

Bilbo blinked, before slowly looking around to see the Elf settled down beside the stone bench.

“Lady Tauriel,” Bilbo nodded in greeting.

She smiled, playing with a rock in her hand, “Just Tauriel. I am no lady, and I certainly do not belong anywhere high enough to be deemed a lady.”

Bilbo looked up to see the Durins in a distance, talking in hushed tones. Kili’s eyes continued to dart towards Tauriel though, even as he tried to hide it.

“I think a certain Prince would like to contest that claim.”

She stopped playing with the pebble, hiding it completely in her palm. Bilbo watched as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before turning to him.

“How did you live?”

“Pardon?”

Tauriel sighed, crossing her legs and turning to face Bilbo, “How did you live, Master Baggins, knowing that the one you lo- like could be in peril at any time? That you might not be able to spend the rest of your life with him, but rather become just a chapter in their life?”

He leaned back, allowing himself to smile. He could see the green hills of the Shire, the river, the smithy, his Bag End and the marketplace.

“I lived because I knew he loved me, as Kili loves you,” said Bilbo, “Do not try and downplay the dedication the Durins have, Tauriel.”

“I have barely known him.”

“I have known Thorin for years, yet he surprised me at every turn of this journey,” Bilbo said honestly, “I knew the smith, the lover, the Husband and the kind dwarf. But on the road? I met the leader, the King, the Uncle, the heir of the Durin’s line, the son, the brother.”

“You are right, I am and will always be perhaps just a chapter in his story. Maybe two, or three, if the Valar grant it. But it would be a glorious chapter. The part that you like to come back to again and again for you know the whole story, yet the chapter makes you soar and live.”

He turned to Tauriel, smiling gently, “You are much older than me, and so is almost everyone else here. But as someone who has lived the shortest, let me tell you this- time is extremely fickle. You think you can do something the next day, but the truth is you don’t know if that tomorrow will ever come. When I married Thorin, I knew that we had to be parted for every half a year, and it broke me- so whenever he came home to me, I made sure that we lived the most of our lives together. We lived our lives, knowing I would die before him, or he might fall in some battle. I desperately wish for him to live, I know I cannot lose him. But, but if Aule truly wishes for Thorin to go to his Halls, I am nobody who can stop him. And I know, I will cherish every moment I had with him.”

Bilbo was truly unaware of when the tears began to fall on his lap, but he did not care. A pair of hands grasped his own, and Bilbo looked up to see at Tauriel smiling sadly at him.

“Even Aule would not be so cruel as to take King Thorin away from you now,” she said firmly, “From what I hear you brought him back from the jaws of death. Have faith, Master Baggins.”

And have faith he did. Faith and prayers was all that he had left.

* * *

When night came, the Ur cousins all but carried Bilbo back to their home. Oin had not yet come out, and the waiting made Bilbo feel worse. But he could not just sit there, not anymore. He needed to eat, and to sleep.

Fili and Kili followed, not really in a mood to sit and wait. Gloin threw his hands in the air and followed, and when they dragged Balin he did not really complain. Dwalin was the one who stayed behind, promising he would bring news.

“As soon as Oin comes out,” he had said.

That was how the remaining members of the company of Thorin Oakenshield found themselves in the dining room at the Ri’s household. There was enough to feed most, and when Lady Dreya entered with her family, including the somewhat confused husband, there was hardly any room to breathe.

Bilbo loved it.

“Hear ya old coots!” cried out Bofur, who was drunk off his ass, “Bilbo here is my new cousin! Hurray!”

Saying that, he fell down on Bombur. The two brother started laughing, sending a ripple of laughter throughout the room.

Bilbo merely smiled. It was a near perfect day, everyone who could be important surrounding him. Just one missing, whose absence was making Bilbo worry more.

“He will be fine, Bilbo.”

Bilbo turned to smile at Balin, who sat beside him, a knowing smile on his face.

“Thorin is strong. He will make it through.”

“I know he will,” said Bilbo, “But the longer it takes, the worse I feel. It’s just...”

Balin patted his back, and Bilbo smiled thankfully to the older dwarf. The two sat in silence for the moment, watching as Bofur and Bombur lead a maddening song. FIli sometimes tried to join in, but he had woken just the morning. 

Every once in a while, FIli would turn to Bilbo and smile softly. Bilbo could not dare to look up at him. Unbearable guilt seared through his veins every-time his eyes landed on that damned movable chair. He could have been faster, saved his boys better.

“May I ask something?”

Bilbo turned to the older dwarf with a frown, “Of course, Balin.”

The old advisor looked hesitant to even voice his question. A moment of contemplation made him resolve. As the Ur's and Ri's continued to somewhat lighten the mood, he asked, “In the room, you said two names. I recognized one of them being that of the bowman’s son.”

Bain. Edis.

Bilbo closed his eyes, his hand involuntarily going to his stomach. Many had heard, and many would have questions. But he did not have the strength to follow up on that. The would was still too fresh. It was quiet sad- even Thorin and him had not talked of it. Never really discussed it. Once the deed was done, Thorin went on to Ered Luin and Bilbo restarted his adventures. 

Only Yavnnah would know what was to come next.

“Its...I will tell of it later. Not now.”

Balin did not push. Bilbo was utterly grateful for that.

The night moved on. Frerin and his family were the first ones to leave. The King needed to rest- too much movement was not good for him yet. Talks were that the whole family would move into the Royal Wings. Everyone took some sort of glee in harassing Thrain.

Next were Fili and Kili. Well, more of Fili going off to sleep and Kili being pushed out by Nori when he tried to sneak away to see Tauriel. Bilbo smiled at their antics, and gave a slight nod as they were taken away to rest.

Left behind were Gloin, the Ur's, the Ri's and Balin. No word had come from Dwalin or Oin. To pass the time, Gloin began to recount tales of childhood, especially that of a troublemaker Thorin. It proved to be much calming for Bilbo, as by the end of it, he finally had a genuine smile of his face.

"...and then Thorin and Frerin ran across the kitchens, going down under the other Dwarrow's legs while me and Oin were busy engaging King Thror in a very deep discussion of Khazad history," Oin said animatedly, "Lady Fris was right on their trail, and Balin was running behind her, trying to calm poor Aunt Fris."

Wiping away the tears, Bilbo asked, "Wh-What was Dwalin doing?"

"Letting the rams free," Balin said with a twinkle in his eyes, "He and Kiri were herding the rams to the market."

"By the time Lady Fris realized that the explosion in the throne room was only a distraction, the goats were amok in Erebor! Oh, it was one of the best fun we had had, aye."

Unable to help himself, Bilbo fell down laughing, supported only by Balin who clutched his side. The Ri's were rolling down, and Bombur and Bofur were laughing all the way. Even Bifur seemed to guffaw, choking on his pipe.

The door flew open, stopping everyone fro just a minute. It was Dwalin who entered first. As soon as Bilbo's eyes landed on him, another round of laughter ran across the room.

"What?" he demanded, arms crossed.

Gloin sniggered, "Was just telling Bilbo here of the Rams incident."

The scowl on Dwlain's face was worth every moment of that, "I will main you, ya old coot!"

"I would like to see ya try!"

"Stop!"

Oin's voice was a gamechanger. Everyone sobered up, and Bilbo's face turned from that of mirth to immediate worry, tears still running down his cheeks.

The Healer sat down at the center, hours of working catching up to him. He patter Bilbo's arms and smiled tiredly, “He will live.”

“But?”

“No buts,” said Oin, “He has just gone off to sleep. His injuries need more time to heal. I have induced a sleep, and it will be a good while before he awakens. Do not worry, he will be fine.”

Bilbo blinked. The room let out a loud whoop, celebrating in a sense of way. But Bilbo could just feel the breath return to his body.

Thorin would be fine. He would live.

he involuntarily wrapped his arms around his abdomen and buried his face in his lap. It would be fine.

Everything would be fine.


	32. Keep us safe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EEEEEEE! We are so close to the end! I am feeling weird. Huh. 
> 
> I am gonna keep the emo-ing for the last chapter. It will be up any time next week. AAAAA!
> 
> A little bit angsty, this chapter is

The Kingdom of Erebor was filled with the stench of the dragon, but if there came a choice between the harsh cold of the East and a smelly mountain, everybody would choose the smelly mountain.

Men had all but moved into the Lonely Mountain, occupying spaces where the stone would not bang their heads. Elves healed the wounded, and so they were grudgingly accepted. But none moved past the great hall or the Galley of the Kings- Dwarves of Erebor might trust Elves, but they did not trust them just so much.

The camps set up in the entryway had all creatures of Arda, and yet seeing the Hobbit scurry around different people and command men double his size never got old. The men and women of Dale found themselves chuckling whenever the Hobbit scolded another fussy eater.

“We just defeated a dragon and fought a battle! Stew is the best we have and you will eat it like the grown-up you are!”

Bilbo huffed as the Man on the bed groaned, but obeyed nevertheless. Satisfied that the men were fed, Bilbo loaded the bowls on the cart and moved towards the kitchen. On his way, he greeted the Elvish healers, asked after the women who had fought in the battle, and the young children who had decided that the Gallery of the Kings, with its golden floor, was their playpen.

“Bombur! Here are the last bowls!” Bilbo greeted as he entered the kitchen, “Do you need something for the night?”

“Not at all, cousin!” Bombur chirped, chopping up vegetables. Dwarves and Men alike were running around in the kitchen, getting ready for the dinner, “All done!”

“Great!” Bilbo wiped his forehead with a handkerchief.

Bombur stopped as Bilbo settled down on the counter beside his workstation. It was far too early, yet those who knew where to look could spot a very small bump on the Hobbit’s stomach. Bilbo said it would be at least a few more weeks before the babe would start moving. The pregnancy would last close to a year, according to him.

“How are you feeling?”

Bilbo shrugged, “Same as every day. Nothing new to report. Has there been anything from the Royal quarters?”

Bombur shook his head, “Nothing in the last two hours.”

Bilbo nodded. He spent his days in the royal quarters, and everyone knew better than to shoo him away. Bilbo Baggins had bested a Dragon, helped in killing the Pale Orc, and gone toe to toe with King Thrain. He looked after the wounded and made sure no one was left behind. Anyone would be foolish to say anything to him.

“Oin was asking for you,” Bombur mentioned as Bilbo bit into an apple, “He said he wanted to see you before tonight.”

Bilbo bit back a groan. Oin had been trying to corner him for ages since he learned of his pregnancy.

Like any rational person, Bilbo knew that he needed to consult a Healer. Even the worst of them could at least tell him the very basics of things. But an irrational, scared part of his brain continued to haunt him, tell him that as soon as he would meet a Healer something drastic would happen.

Once bitten, twice shy indeed.

“All right then,” Bilbo said with a sigh, “I will be off just now.”

* * *

Oin was exactly where Bilbo had expected him to be-in the medical hall on the upper levels of the Mountain. Bilbo would be foolish to say he knew Erebor in and out, but he was overall well aware of where everything was situated. A few maps from the library and pointers through Dwarves of Erebor had made sure that Bilbo was never lost.

“You wanted to see me?”

Oin looked up from the vials he was holding. He put them down and pulled up a new ear trumpet- by the looks of gems and ivory, clearly knicked from the treasure hoard.

“What laddie?”

Bilbo stopped the urge to roll his eyes. He cleared his throat and shouted, “I asked if you wanted to see me!”

“Ah, yes, yes,” Oin nodded, gesturing him to enter, “Come sit. How do you feel?”

Settling down on the cot beside Oin’s table, Bilbo shrugged, “Nothing out of the blue.”

Oin frowned as if detecting a lie, “Nausea?”

“Only triggered by Dragon stench,” Bilbo answered dutifully.

“Morning sickness?”

“Never had it.”

Oin hummed, “Headaches?”

To that, Bilbo cracked a tired smile, “Can you live among dwarrows and not have a headache?”

That elicited a laugh from the older dwarf, and Bilbo found himself smiling too. The times were harsh, and the smile was a rarity in the mountain.

“I knew you were a good stone from the moment I saw you,” Oin said boastfully, “True, true, aye.”

Bilbo rolled his eyes. He sat up straight as Oin fussed around him, taking care of his temperature, heartbeat, and breath. The cast he was wearing was now taken off, on the promise that Bilbo would not exert himself. Bilbo, of course, would do no such thing, and the added fussing he had to go through everyday courtesy of Dori and Bifur made sure that he was fine.

Once done, Oin sat back straight, frowning deeply, “I am not gonna lie laddie. I have no idea what to expect out of this. I could treat ya as a dam, but you are not a dwarf nor a dam.”

Taking a deep breath, He continued, “I have encountered women with half-dwarf babies before though, or dams with half man child. After Erebor, it was not as uncommon as we would have liked it to be.”

“Did those children survive? Did the mothers?”

“Some did, aye. Not all,” Oin offered mournfully, “Half children are never easy, I tell ya. Especially in times of misery. Now, however, we have a shelter. We have Elvish healers, who, as much as I hate those tree-shaggers, are truly masters in their craft. And most importantly, we have time.”

That gave him hope. Bilbo had seen the miracles that the Elvish healers could perform. Even Tauriel, who was barely a healer was able to work enough to save Kili and Fili.

“Tell me something honestly.”

Oin’s face was scrunched up.

“Of course, Oin,” Bilbo replied, puzzled.

“A few years ago, Thorin wrote to me. He talked about his renter, expecting and very sick.”

The Dwarf did not ask the question, but Bilbo heard it perfectly well. Taking in a deep breath, Bilbo smiled sadly, “Yes, that would be me.”

The Healer nodded, patting the hobbit’s hand. Bilbo did not need to explain anything, and Oin did not need to talk about it. Instead, he asked,

“The herb I sent, did it do any good?”

“According to my Aunt, it potentially saved my life. Though it tasted disgusting.”

Oin chuckled weakly, “Aye, not all herbs taste well.” After a short pause, he added, “If I had known the babe was half-dwarf, I would have sent more. There is a reason we carve our children, not birth them. Dams are rare, and even few survive. I think Ri brothers are the only family where all children were born.”

Clearing his throat, Oin shook his head, as if dispelling the saddened mood of the room, “It matters not. The herbs I ask for have come in plenty from the Iron Hills, and more will be coming the next time. If you would allow me, Bilbo, I would like to oversee your progress.”

Bilbo nodded. He had full faith in Oin’s work. He just did not have faith in, well, fate. “Will the babe live?”

Oin gently took Bilbo's hands and clutched it tightly, as if binding it in an eternal promise, “If it is in my hands, laddie? The babe will be born healthy and hearty.”

* * *

“...so now Oin has planned a meticulous medicine chart that I am supposed to be following, along with a very strict diet. Dori is ‘delighted’ to look after someone and Bifur is the worst when it comes to mother-henning, worse than my father,” sighed Bilbo, massaging his head, “I swear, Thorin if I had known that this is what going to him would entail I would have run the other direction.”

There was no response from the Dwarf. He lay still on the bed. The only indication that he lived was the rise and fall of his chest.

“Thankfully Fili and Kili have not heard about it yet,” Bilbo continued, looking down at the report he had in his hands, “Well, I doubt Kili would have much time. He has overtaken the role of negotiator between Elves and Dwarrows, you know. With the help of Lady Tauriel, he has been doing well so far. Lord Frerin is helping him in his capacity, but he is still too injured. Fili takes care of the Men, but Bard is a negotiable man and so he is freer. I worry if he finds out about what Oin has said, he would come and mother me as well. Wouldn’t be surprised, honestly. Once you strip away the weight of being an heir, Fili is much more motherly. I always thought you were pushing him, but Fili is just like that, isn’t he?”

Thorin’s eyes remained closed, his hands by his side. Bilbo finally looked up at the slack face of Thorin. He bent forward and clutch the Dwarf’s hands tightly, “You better not create a rucksack about missing these months after you wake up, you understand? I am only allowing you to sleep this much because you are healing. I am fine, babe is fine, the Company is doing well, Erebor is standing. Lord Thrain, well, he is also helping in his way I guess, though he should be resting as well. Everything is fine, all right? I need you to rest, and then wake up and handle everything, all right?”

Thorin did not reply, and Bilbo did not expect him to. But as days passed, Bilbo could not help and feel more lost.

The mountain was big, filled with everyone but Hobbits. He had friends, yes, but he missed his Husband. He did not have his gardens to distract him, nor the gossip of the Shire. Dori only knew so much, having been known as an esteemed member of the Company.

“Wake up soon, all right?” whispered Bilbo, tears escaping his eyes, “We are all waiting for you.”

* * *

Fili, despite his broken leg, a dislocated shoulder, and a possibly permanent spinal injury, did not stop working. Yes, he was confined to a movable chair, but it was a ‘movable’ chair. So he went around, talking with Bard, ensuring that dwarrows and Men stood together, that the resources were not running low.

The only people he saw most often were Bard, Bombur if he needed to eat, Kili if Elves and men had to be dealt with together, and Frerin because he knew how the negotiations had to be done.

He had learned to appreciate Frerin as a King. His way of governing was much different from Thorin. While he had believed in getting his work done, with the trusted counsel of few, Frerin was more of a people’s pleaser. It did not exactly sit well with Fili, but at the moment the choice was between him and Thrain, and Fili would any day chose Frerin.

Other than that, Fili remained busy, He had not seen Thorin since that day, and furthermore, he missed Bilbo every day.

Despite working in the same areas, Bilbo went to the camps when the food was served and Fili rushed to eat and meet Frerin to discuss the day’s work. As a result, he had not seen the Hobbit for many days. He could only wonder how Bilbo would be feeling, and every time he thought of it, it made Fili worry. It was also notable that the few times Fili thought he saw the Hobbit’s curls, they would disappear the very next moment.

The day he finally met Bilbo, he was lying on the golden floor, having been taken hostage by Tilda and her friends, bound by rags and his chair at a distance.

“What is happening here?”

Fili looked up, only to find Bilbo looking at him in grave concern.

“Bilbo!”

“Stop!” Tilda immediately shushed Fili, “Dragon hostages do not talk.”

“Forgive me, your majesty,” said Fili, before letting out a pained growl, which made all children giggle.

“Tilda,” Bilbo said warningly.

The young girl just smiled, “We were playing with Prince Fili, Master Baggins.”

“He is hurt,” Bilbo informed them sternly yet softly, “Why is he lying on the floor?”

“It’s not their fault,” Fili said hurriedly, “I was tired and decided to take a nap. When I woke up I was bound by these brave warriors.”

Despite himself, Bilbo’s lips twitched, “On the floor?”

At Fili’s one-shoulder shrug, Bilbo gave up, “While that is all great, you all need to eat and Prince Fili needs to work. Shoo!”

Everybody protested, but one stern look from Bilbo had them scurrying away. Fili breathed a sigh of relief and began to get up when he felt a hand on his back.

“Can you stand?” came a soft question.

Fili shook his head, “I will need the chair.”

No more questions were asked. The chair was wheeled beside him, and Fili used the strong armrests to pull himself up. Settling down was not a hassle, not anymore. He was surviving, yes.

“How are you feeling?” Bilbo looked at him with concern.

Fili sighed, “Immobile, but working. How are you?”

Bilbo shrugged.

“Are you well?”

“According to Oin, yes.”

The two stood in silence. It was different from any other time. Conversation often flowed easily between Fili and Bilbo. Yet the pregnant pause was making Fili worry.

“Bilbo, I wanted to apologize.”

That got the Hobbit’s attention. He raised an eyebrow, looking confused, “What?”

“I should have stood up for you,” Fili admitted, the guilt of long bubbling up, “Said something on the ramparts. The shock of it was so much that I wasn’t able to do anything.”

Bilbo blinked owlishly, before shaking his head, “Fili, that was not your fault. They could have killed me.”

“Exactly!” Fili burst out, before realizing where they stood. He lowered his voice, head bent, “I am sorry. Please forgive me. I will do anything to make it up to you, just do not ignore me.”

“Ig-ignore you?” Bilbo opened his mouth to add something, but words seemed to fail him. Fili nodded, looking mournfully at the Hobbit,

“I have noticed. You always leave before my time. You have refused to talk to me for ages. I do not blame you, for if someone had failed me so I would not want to see their faces either.”

“What? No!” Bilbo came to stand in front of Fili, shaking his head swiftly, “No, I am not- no, no, Fili, I just. I am not angry with you. Oh, Yavannah. It’s not you, well, it is, but it’s also not. It’s me. I have just been worried and all...Fili...”

Fili frowned, cocking his head, “I don’t understand.”

There was another bout of silence, but unlike before this was filled with anticipation. When Bilbo spoke up, a part of Fili’s heart broke, “This is not the first time I am expecting. Thorin and I have lost two children before. I was just scared of losing another one.”

“Oh Mahal,” To lose a child more than once? Fili had heard stories of families like that, but he had never truly been so close to such a person. No wonder Bilbo was upset- he could have lost a child at the ramparts and- “Of course. Your child, I am sorry, Bilbo. I understand. They are more-”

“Fili,” Bilbo said sternly, making Fili look up. As he stared at Fili, Bilbo patted his stomach and said, “I am not talking about this miracle.”

“Huh?”

Taking a deep breath, Bilbo took a step forward. They were close, and Fili sat on a lower height than Bilbo as he said, “Watching Azog dangle you over that cliff was one of the hardest things I had ever had to do. When you fell, all I could think was that you are gone, and that is a feeling that I cannot describe to you. All these days, I have not been able to look at you because, well, it’s stupid, but I am afraid I will see you and find out that you are actually gone. Not here, and that fall actually killed you. The wounds that you have to carry is proof that I wasn’t fast enough, and I know I am a hypocrite for saying this, but I cannot forgive myself for all that you had to go through.”

As Fili continued to blink owlishly, Bilbo cupped the prince’s cheek and smiled, tears threatening to spill from his eyes, “If I lost you Fili, it would be one of the hardest things I would have to do. And I have still not been able to come to terms with that. I am sorry if you thought that I was ignoring you. I was just afraid-”

Whatever Bilbo was going to say was cut as Fili pulled Bilbo into a bone-crushing hug. He buried his head in Bilbo’s chest and was getting his tunic very wet. Bilbo oofed, and patted his nephew's head. He was not even trying to push his tears away from Fili’s tunic.

It was not an ideal place to cry, but well.

* * *

A long talk would have been beneficial, but both Bilbo and Fili had work to do. Every moment counted, and with some hesitation, Bilbo wheeled Fili’s chair into the Royal Wing.

Fili had business with Frerin, so Bilbo wheeled the Prince into his room. It was a suite, with a living area where Frerin sat on one of the more comfortable chairs, pouring over agreements. Dreya sat a distance, and bidding adieu to the golden-haired Durins, Bilbo went on to greet Dreya.

“It’s weird, living here,” she admitted, pushing away her work and stretching her arms, “Frerin often wakes up crying.”

“Is that something I should be privy to?”

Dreya rolled her eyes, “I am not sharing the secrets of my marriage with you. It has just been a hard time. Memories of childhood are coming back to us.”

Bilbo nodded. He could understand. Sort of.

“What are you working on?”

Dreya sighed, “Balin has sent a letter to Dis. She replied, saying the caravans have left Ered Luin.”

“Already? In winter?”

“Dwarves are desperate to come home,” Dreya said with an understanding, “Thankfully, Balin is coordinating the things on that side. He has given me the resources that will be needed. Half the Mountain still needs to be restored. It will be a momentous task.”

Bilbo opened his mouth but hesitated before speaking. He had an idea or a way of helping, but he was not sure if he could take it on.

Still, asking never hurt anyone.

“Can I help?”

Dreya shook her head, “These are very confusing things.”

“I can work with reports,” he offered, “You do these things in Westron anyway. And I know I do not know how the houses work in the mountain, but I can help with cleaning.”

The Dwarrowsma looked at Bilbo as if he was her savior, “Could you, truly?”

Chuckling lightly, Bilbo nodded, “Men have started their own kitchen and all, so they will not be in a dire need of me anymore. Dori is insistent I do not do any heavy work, but this? This I can do.”

“Oh Bilbo, Mahal sent you!” Dreya exclaimed happily, before sobering up, “It’s a lot of work, so I will run you through it. Do not overexert yourself.”

Bilbo had to stop from rolling his eyes, “I am expecting, I am not injured.”

“I bore Vorin, I know what it is like to expect one of Durin’s children,” Dreya reminded pointedly, “Herbs and food...”

“Don’t remind me!” Bilbo groaned, “Oin has demanded a report every day. I have missed a meal already.”

As Dreya glared at him, he said, “I will eat!”

“I am sure you will,” she muttered, before turning back to her work, “Go rest now. I will come to you later tonight with this.”

“Dori will ask you to stay back for dinner.”

“I am not going to refuse that offer,” she muttered.

With a wave of the hand, Bilbo moved out. Fili had already left- when, Bilbo had no idea. He would talk to the boy later- they really did need to talk.

It seemed that talking was all that Bilbo needed to do.

“Master Baggins, may I have a word with you?”

Bilbo turned to see Frerin looking at him. Dreya spared one glance at the two of them before turning back to her work. Bilbo shrugged, “If I must.”

Frerin grimaced, before gesturing him to have a seat. Bilbo settled down on the couch, facing the Durin son.

It took him a moment to begin, “I wanted to apologize.”

Bilbo blinked, looking surprisingly at Frerin. He turned to see Dreya, but she was religiously working on her reports. He turned back to face Frerin, blinking, “Pardon?”

“We have treated you most harshly, Master Baggins,” Frerin admitted, somewhat uncomfortably, “Asked for your help, but never really shown you the respect that you deserve.”

“I have done nothing,” Bilbo muttered.

Dreya coughed rather loudly, and one look at her back confirmed bilbo suspicions. There was a slight smile on her face, hidden by the hair the dwarrows had, but it was no surprise to her that Frerin was suddenly apologizing.

“You have saved our lives,” Frerin said pointedly, “More than once. And all the while, we have seen you with suspicion. I had thought I had outgrown the prejudices of my forefathers, but it seems that the same trap befalls me. We let our minds be clouded by judgment, rather than actually trying to know the truth. If Thorin trusted you, and so did the Company- we shouldn’t have been so harsh.”

Bilbo frowned, not sure how to respond. He recognized a plea for peace, but he wasn’t sure how to respond. He had his contentions with the Prince, the ones he could not ignore.

“I know your moniker is that os Silvertongue, Lord Frerin, but I would like you to know that pretty words only mean enough when they are followed by actions.”

The muffled chuckle was not unheard of by anyone. Frerin glared at her wife’s back, before nodding to what Bilbo had said, “True.”

“What’s done is done,” Bilbo said with an air of finality, “It’s in the past. Thorin is your brother, and we are, by marriage, family. I do not want lengthy apologies, or, or some weird rituals like cutting off braids because a few of Erebroians have actually said they would do it. Truly disturbing. If you are really sorry, speak with your actions.”

Frerin nodded, looking truly mournful, “My actions would change, I promise you. As for the Ereborians offering you braids...I will talk to them.”

“That would be great. Thank you. May I have you leave now?”

“You do not have to ask.”

“Past experiences say otherwise.”

And with that, Bilbo was gone. The last he heard was full-blown laughter from Dreya.

* * *

Days muddled into each other, and Bilbo was truly losing track of time. Thorin still refused to wake, but the color was back on his face, and the wounds healed rather nicely. Bilbo would sit beside the bed, a chair having been provided for him especially considering its size. Sometimes he would take Thorin’s hands to his stomach and tell him about all things happening in the mountain.

Most days, he just sat there, holding his hand, staring silently, waiting for him to wake up.

It was one of those days when Thrain walked into Thorin’s chambers. Bilbo and Thrain avoided each other as a rule. Since the revelation, there were noticeable changes in Thrain’s behavior, but none directly to Bilbo. They hardly shared a space.

Thrain waited for just a second at the door, looking at Bilbo, before walking in like he owned the room and seating himself on the other side of the bed. Bilbo refused to look at him, his eyes fixed on Thorin.

“Has there been any change?”

the soft voice startled Bilbo. He looked up, but Thrain’s eyes were fixed on Thorin. Shaking himself, Bilbo looked back, “Not much. His wounds are healing, but he has not regained consciousness.”

Thrain hummed and leaned back, staring at Thorin. Bilbo too did the same. Neither spoke, reveling in the silence.

“When Frerin was born, Thorin was extremely upset,” Thrain said, and Bilbo curiously frowned but did not look up. Thrain continued, “Fris and I spent ages trying to explain to Thorin that Frerin was a friend, but he was rather persistent. He refused to eat unless either Fris or I sat with him. His stubbornness led him to fall sick within a year of Frerin’s birth.”

Bilbo was unable to stop the smile. He could somehow imagine young Thorin, without any beard, pouting and throwing a tantrum.

“So stubborn was he, that nobody found out about his high temperature until he fainted in his Si-Grandfather’s lap. Gave us quite a fright. He did not wake for a week, and his temperatures ran amok. Oh, how we had despaired, worried out of our heads.”

Thrain let out a low chuckle, leaning to run his hands through Thorin’s hair, “It’s just his stubbornness. He will wake up soon. Won’t you, _inudoy_?”

There was no answer from the dwarf on the bed. Thrain let out a staggering breath, before leaning back and sitting with his arms in his lap.

“He never gave up on you.”

Thrain slowly looked at Bilbo. He was smiling sadly, looking at Thorin. “Whenever he told me of his family, he said that you were missing. Never gone. I, like everyone else, presumed you to be dead, but he refused to think so.”

Letting out a chuckle, Bilbo said, “We had six months together every year. Six months when Thorin could get away from Ered Luin, and even then a month was spent in traveling in what not. Even then he would take out time to search for you if he ever heard a rumor. Once I did not see him for a whole year. I was quite cross. But he was quite insistent that he ought to find you.”

Thrain sighed, “He has been far too stubborn.”

“He has,” agreed on Bilbo.

Grunting, Thrain said, “I do not think there is anyone good enough for my son.”

“Yes,” Bilbo agreed, “but he chose me, and I chose him. that’s not going to change.”

Thrain looked at Bilbo as if he was trying to unravel a puzzle, “You are a strange creature, Master Baggins.”

“So I have been told,” Bilbo bit back.

“You truly love him.”

It was not a question, but not quite a statement either.

“More than anything else.”

Thrain hummed but did not say anything else. If for the next hour the two sat together in silence, neither mentioned it ever again.

* * *

“All right. We need to do something about Bilbo.”

Whatever Kili had expected, it was not this.

When Fili had called for a Company meeting, Kili had expected a night of cheer or something. Everybody had been too busy with reconstructions and other work to actually meet and revel. Some were working in the mines, others in restoring the houses. Kili himself was busy with the negotiations which were far worse than he had ever thought they would be.

He really needed to sleep.

“What about Bilbo?” He asked tiredly. The said Hobbit was running around Erebor, making sure that the living conditions were good. It was cold, and he was more often than not buried under cardigans and a pair of booties that frankly looked adorable on his large feet.

“He is running himself to his death,” Bofur said mournfully, “He barely sleeps, either working in restoration or spending time with Thorin, who has still not woken up. I do not imagine it is healthy.”

“Aye,” said Oin, “it’s not. His body is not made up for so much work, but he refuses to listen.”

Dori nodded, “We need to get him to sleep.”

“But how?”

It was Bombur’s voice that startled them all, “I might have an idea.”

* * *

It was the end of another tiring day. The houses in the Western part of the mountain had taken a lot of damage, being so close to the treasury. Many rooms were filled with treasures that had spilled over, and making sure that none of the Dwarves actually fall to the sickness was a hassle.

Bilbo groaned as he entered the house. The small fireplace warmed the room, but it wasn’t enough in the cold winter.

The only ones sitting there were Bombur and Nori. Ori was no doubt busy in the library, working on the old manuscripts. Dori would be getting cloth. Bifur and Bofur had gone to the mines and were not due back for another few days. All in all, it was just the three of them.

“Cousin!” Bombur greeted with a smile, “Hungry?”

“Forever!” Bilbo groaned, “But I need to get to Thorin. Let me just change my clothes.”

“Now don’t be like that,” Nori said with a wiggle of his eyebrows, “Bombur here has made soup. I would drink more of it Bombur, but I am full.”

“it will all go to waste now,” Bombur said mournfully, “Both Ori and Dori will be late.”

Bilbo raised an eyebrow. That was perhaps the most Bombur had ever spoken in one breath. But it was about food, so Bilbo was not really surprised.

“Yeah,” Nori said sadly, “maybe you should drink some Bilbo.”

Now that was suspicious.

“No, I am fine, thank you,” Bilbo said with a faux smile, “Perhaps in a while.”

As he pulled down his socks, Bombur asked, “have you eaten anything?”

“I had lunch.”

“That was hours ago! You must eat.”

Bilbo opened his mouth to protest but was instead met with a spoonful of soup. Which was delicious. Unwillingly he found himself moaning around the taste and creamy structure of the soup.

“Oh my Bombur, that’s delicious,” Bilbo groaned, pushing the soup down his throat.

Bombur looked very happy at the praise. He pushed the bowl to Bilbo, who took it willingly. If he and Nori shared a suspicious smile, Bilbo was too busy devouring the contents of his bowl.

By the time the last drop was gone, Bilbo was feeling quite drowsy. Which was understandable- after a full day of work and a hearty meal, anybody would feel sleepy.

“Oh I am so tired,” Bilbo muttered.

“Maybe you should sleep then,” Nori piped up.

“Gotta meet Thorin,” Bilbo said drowsily.

Bombur made an unhappy noise, “Why don’t you take a nap? I will wake you up in an hour and then you can go meet him.”

That sounded like a very good plan. Nodding at the brilliant idea, Bilbo walked inside his room and dropped on his bed.

Someone pulled the covers up to his neck, and Bilbo snuggled in like a baby. With a wistful sigh, Bilbo fell asleep.

  
  



	33. Love you (Forever and evermore)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long-ass chapter...but I will not cut one part of it. I will let you all enjoy this before going all emo. Enjoy!

When Bilbo woke up, he was pleasantly aware of the murmuring happening in his room. Opening of eyes indicated that certain members of his adopted family were whispering furiously, looking at him by the corner of their eyes. Bombur had his eyes downcast, lip pulled out in a pout, and eyebrows drooped. It was one of the most pathetic views Bilbo had woken up to.

“What’s going on?”

His voice froze all activity in the room. Bofur and Nori slowly turned to see Bilbo sitting up on his bed, looking at the dwarrows in question. The Miner and the Thief looked as if caught in the middle of a prank, or worse, thievery.

“Bilbo!” Bofur exclaimed, somewhat strained, “You woke up!”

“Yes, that’s what you do after you have finished your sleep,” Bilbo said dryly, before opening his mouth in a wide yawn, “What time is it?”

The looks exchanged among the dwarrows was nothing short of suspicious.

“What?” demanded Bilbo. Nori smiled hesitantly, taking the brave step forward.

“It’s, um, noon.”

Bilbo blinked once, then twice. He rubbed his eyes, then looked at the dwarf in confirmation.

“Noon?”

Everyone winced at Bilbo’s raised voice. Bofur went as far as to wince as if hit physically. Bilbo threw off his covers and jumped down, looking at the Dwarves in shock.

“I slept for half a day?”

Bombur whimpered. Bilbo looked at him in confusion when Bofur said, “Er, more like, a day and a half.”

“A DAY AND A HALF?”

“Thorin’s awake!”

When Nori came into the hardening gaze of Bilbo, he realized he had messed up. Massively.

Bilbo’s voice was extremely low when he spoke next, making everyone’s veins freeze in terror, “What?”

Bofur, the ever brave one, nodded and said, “Well, he awoke only a few hours ago. It’s not like you missed a lot.”

The Hobbit looked ready to burst. He was either going to kill every single Dwarf in existence or shout so loud that Erebor would fall.

But Bilbo was smart. There were other things to do as of the moment.

Taking a deep breath, Bilbo calmed his nerves. He needed to move. He needed to do more important things.

“I will deal with you lot later,” Bilbo hissed, before pushing Bombur and Bofur out of his way and storming out of the house. Anyone who saw the Hobbit walk moved to the side immediately. The otherwise soft-footed hobbit moved loudly enough to scare the bravest of Men.

When he finally reached the Royal Quarters, the soldiers shared one look before immediately moving apart. He marched up to Thorin’s room, stopping only when he came face to face with worried Fili and kili.

“Bilbo! You are awake!”

The glare that Kili got in response scared every last bit of him.

“You!” Bilbo poked the younger prince on his chest, “Were you involved in making me asleep for a day and a half?”

Kili gulped, remembering the last of his breath. As he slowly looked at Fili from the corner of his eyes, Bilbo’s head snapped in the direction of his elder nephew.

“Er,” Fili looked at Bilbo, half terrified, “We were worried you weren’t sleeping?”

The glare that Bilbo pointed at Fili had him cowering in his seat. He waited for a scolding, but none came. When he looked up, Bilbo was taking another deep breath.

“I will deal with all of you later,” he muttered under his breath, calming his nerves, “Where is that idiotic husband of mine?”

* * *

Thorin was sitting up on his bed. His chest was bound by bandages, but he felt very little pain. The wounds were almost healed, and the lingering pain would only hurt him in cold weather. Unfortunately for him, he had woken up in peak winter.

Frerin stood beside him, looking as Oin fussed around Thorin. Honestly, he was fine. He felt like taking Dwalin out for a spar, but even he knew how illogical the idea was.

Most of the Company were inside, looking at Thorin in worry. He wanted to roll his eyes but refrained from doing so. From what he had been told, he had been put in an induced sleep for weeks. The last memory he had was of the battle, and one rather very emotionally draining conversation with Bilbo which felt like a dream.

Oin stood back, humming to himself.

“Well?”

It was Thrain who asked, and looked positively worried when he did so.

Oin grunted, “He is fine. No running into battles, or doing anything remotely foolish, and he-”

Whatever the old Healer had to say was cut short as the doors of the room were pushed open. Everyone turned to see Bilbo Baggins standing there, followed by the Princes and the remaining members of the Company.

All that Thorin felt in the moment was a relief, at seeing his Husband. But the feeling went away just a second later, for the Hobbit looked furious.

Thorin gulped. An Angry Bilbo was a scary Bilbo.

Ignoring everything around, Bilbo walked up to the other side of the bed. Thorin watched in fear as Bilbo glared down at Thorin. Nobody spoke, not even Thrain. The very aura of the Hobbit was terrifying. One by one, each dwarf was pulling back, as if trying to distance themselves from the explosion to come

They were wise to do so, for the very next moment, Bilbo swatted the King on his head.

“Bilbo!” cried Thorin, holding his head. “I have been hurt!”

“Yes, you have!” Said Bilbo, before dropping a few more hits on the side. Then he hit Thorin’s shoulder, quite a few times, and then he again hit his head. “You absolute idiot! What in the name of Valar were you thinking?”

“What was I thinking?” rumbled Thorin, his frown etched on his face, “I was fighting a battle! Which I have done and have been trained for. What were you doing?”

“Saving. Your. Arse!” Bilbo proclaimed loudly, before hitting thorin with both his arms. Thorin raised his own arms in defense but was instead met with even more hits.

“Mahal, stop!”

Thorin’s groans finally stopped Bilbo. He slowly pulled down his arms to see Bilbo looking murderously at him.

“Azog could have killed you!” Bilbo shouted, his hands on his hips, “He almost killed you! Do you realize that?”

Thorin grunted, “Considering I was the one he was fighting, yes.”

Bilbo hit Thorin’s shoulder again, “Don’t try and be smart, you foolish dwarf! You are a horrible, horrible dwarf!”

“No, I am not.”

“yes, you are! You, you absolute monster! Do you know how long you have been asleep? You gave all of us a scare!” shouted Bilbo, “Then waking up only to say, ‘Ooh, I can see Mahal’s Halls!’ You absolute arse!”

Bilbo’s imitation was Thorin was high pitched and very wrong. Most of the dwarves were scared out of their minds, but could not help but crack a smile at the bad impersonation.

“I do not sound like that,” grumbled Thorin.

Bilbo snorted, “No, you sound like a drama king you are! I swear Thorin if you had left me to raise a child alone in a distant place-”

“A what?” Thorin’s face turned so fast that it gave him a sprain. Groaning, Thorin gently massaged his neck, before looking at Bilbo in question, “A child? What?”

Bilbo blinked slowly, “Thorin, tell me you remember the conversation we had.”

“What conversation?”

“The conversation when you were almost dying!”

“That was real?”

Thorin looked around to see everyone nod in agreement. He turned to look at Bilbo, who looked absolutely done. When he next opened his mouth, his voice was barely a whisper.

“You are with child?”

Bilbo’s features softened considerably. He took a step forward, took one of Thorin’s large hands, and placed it on his now showing stomach. For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, there was a flutter of movement.

Thorin's mouth fell open, and his eyes were wide in question.

“How long?” he whispered.

“By the way it is progressing, since Lake-Town, I think.”

That earned him a flabbergasted look.

“Since lake-Town?” Thorin squeaked, not even trying to cover his voice.

Bilbo let out a snort-laugh, before nodding.

Abruptly, thorin pulled back his hand, “you went into the battle with a child?”

The realization dawned on Bilbo as Thorin continued to ramble, “you, you entered Erebor with a child! Mahal, you did all, oh no, Bilbo! When did you find out?”

Bilbo looked as if he was contemplating his answer. Thorin continued to stare at him, absolutely flabbergasted.

“Bilbo?” he demanded.

“The day before the battle,” he hurriedly let out.

Thorin gulped, “The day before-, AZOG THREW YOU! FRERIN DANGLED YOU OFF THE RAMPARTS!”

As thorin turned to look at his brother, Frerin looked positively scared for his life. He opened his mouth to say something, anything when Bilbo cut in.

“Oh, he was sick, same as you!” Bilbo bit in, “Don’t harass the poor boy!”

“Poor boy?” protested Frerin, but it was mostly overlooked as Thorin turned back to Bilbo.

“At least, he didn’t ‘banish’ me!” Bilbo threw his hands in the air, done with the nonsense, “Or gave me my marriage bead, telling me that we are done!”

“Why- why would he give your marriage bead?” Thorin asked, very swiftly losing the direction of the conversation.

“You know what I mean, Thorin!”

“I was sick!”

“Very sick,” affirmed Bilbo, “you are never going back into that treasury?”

“Excuse me?” Thorin pulled off the covers and stood up, ignoring the protests of the Dwarves around. He stared at Bilbo, “I am a Royal of Erebor! It is my duty!”

“Duty my foot!” said Bilbo, stomping his foot for emphasis, “None of you Durins are going back into tha treasury unless it has been cleaned or cleansed or something. Including you Lord Thrain!”

The older dwarf looked in confusion at being suddenly pointed out. He looked around for confirmation, and everyone nodded. By the time he turned back, the conversation between the Husbands had carried on.

“You are staying in bed, getting better, and focusing on clearing your head!”

“My head is clear.”

“Your head is never clear! It’s full of nonsense, of, of weird court drama and, and quests and responsibilities and what not!”

“At least it is not full of weird flower meanings and recipes of most ridiculous things!”

“Excuse you! Hobbit customs have meaning! We value life!”

“More like you value laziness and obesity!”

“Shut up! We Hobbits are at least practical people who do not focus on foolish things like war and what not!”

“Are you calling Dwarrows foolish!?”

“Well, it was not a Company of hobbits who decided to come on this deadly quest!”

“You agreed to come as well!”

“Somebody had to save you, stupid people! What if you had died?”

The Dwarrow watched in absolute confusion as Bilbo and Thorin glared at each other. Dwalin was ready to separate the two if they started exchanging arms, which looked like a very possible possibility for the next moment. Everyone was shocked and confused as the two continued to glare heatedly.

The very next moment, however, Thorin was clutching Bilbo as his life depended on it, his lips on Bilbo’s, and both were crying. Everyone turned around at once, some whistling, others looking positively sick. Neither bilbo nor Thorin clearly cared that they had an audience.

It was Bofur who finally said, “Oye! Give each other some space, would ya? You are still healing!”

In response, Bilbo pulled back, glared at the lot, and exchanged a look with thorin. The next moment, everyone was being pushed out of the room, including Thrain. Oin grumbled about stopping his work but walked out.

As soon as the last Dwarrow was pushed out, the door was shut close. Bilbo turned back to glare at Thorin, and the next moment the two were kissing again.

Somehow, between pushing and desperation, the two had seated themselves on the bed and were talking and kissing at the same time.

“Everyone knows we are married,” Bilbo said as they pulled apart for a moment.

“Good,” Thorin grumbled before pulling Bilbo into another kiss.

* * *

It was much later in the evening that Bilbo and Thorin finally talked. Someone knocked on the door and left behind two bowls of soup. Bilbo did not see who it was, but collected the two bowls and walked inside, closing the door behind him.

Thorin was settled on the bed, and Bilbo settled down beside him. He pushed himself between Thorin’s chest and his arm and nestled quite nicely in the crook. Thorin merely smiled, before accepting his bowl from Bilbo.

“This is quite good,” he said slowly, “Bombur?”

Bilbo hummed, “I hope he has not mixed more sleep-inducing herbs in this.”

To that, Thorin raised an eyebrow, “Do I want to know?”

“Not really,” said Bilbo, taking a spoonful of his soup. He looked up at Thorin, worry clear on his face, “Are you all right?”

Thorin smiled softly, pushing his head to Bilbo’s, “I am fine.”

Bilbo let out a sigh and closed his eyes, cupping Thorin’s cheek, “No plans of dying, right?”

“No,” Thorin promised, “I am alive and well.”

“good,” said Bilbo, pulling back, “because I am not losing you, Thorin. I cannot.”

Thorin took Bilbo’s bowl and set it aside, before taking his hands in his own. He kissed them both, looking up at Bilbo, “I am not losing you either.”

The promise seemed to calm Bilbo somewhat, for he pulled back with a smile and took back his bowl. The two finished their meals in silence, reveling in the touch. Once done, Bilbo placed the bowls on the floor. He put his head on thorin’s chest, looking up as Thorin wrapped his own arms around him.

“You were right, you know,” Bilbo muttered softly.

Thorin raised an eyebrow, “What?”

“In the Mountains,” Bilbo said, playing with thorin’s hair, “I did not know what loss is.”

Thorin frowned, guilt rushing in his veins, “Bilbo...”

“I did not know what loss was until I lost you,” Bilbo said softly, still not looking at Thorin, “First to Dragon-sickness, then to this madness of life and death.”

When he finally looked up, his eyes were full of unshed tears, “If something happened to you, I swear I wouldn’t have been able to move on. I don’t what I would have done.”

Thorin let out a staggering breath, tears threatening to escape his own eyes. He pulled bilbo close, pressing a kiss on his temple, “I am not leaving you. Promise.”

“You can’t promise me that.”

Letting out a deep sigh, thorin pulled back a bit, his face in resolution, “You can have my braids, Bilbo Baggins. I promise you this with my life.”

To his surprise, bilbo rolled his eyes, “Your Dwarves and your stupid braids. I don’t want some strands of hair to hold a promise, do you understand? I just want you.”

Thorin smiled sadly. He ran a hand through Bilbo’s curls. Bilbo leaned into the touch, sighing softly.

Years had made their lives hard, their relationship constrained. The Quest had done wonders to them, and the relationship they shared. Bilbo was not sure what it was anymore, but he knew that he loved Thorin with all his heart. Coming so close to losing him was a nightmare he never wanted to see again.

Bilbo’s thoughts were interrupted as Thorin begin to sit up. Bilbo looked at him questioningly as Thorin got up and put on a tunic kept close by. He turned to Bilbo as a dwarf with a goal.

“Do you have your beads?”

“yes.”

“And the key I gave you?”

“The key to your heart?” Bilbo said with a slight smile, “Yes, I do.”

Thorin nodded, before going into the closet. When he emerged, he had the wedding ribbon in his hands.

“What...”

“Do you have my bead?”

“yes...what is going on?”

Thorin did not answer. Instead, he extended his hand. Bilbo looked at the offered hand in confusion, before taking it hesitantly.

The next moment, Bilbo and Thorin were sneaking out of his rooms.

“thorin!” hissed bilbo, “you are supposed to be resting!”

“I will have lots of time to rest,” he mumbled, looking around to see if any soldiers were taking rounds, “Come on!”

The two broke into a sort of semi jog. Thorin led Bilbo deeper into the royal quarters. Soon, the corridors turned to places that hadn’t been explored in the recent past. Bilbo protested, worried about what the place could bring. Many places were dangerous to walk on- floors that could just shift from under their feet, columns which weren’t as strong as they looked.

But Thorin’s resolution was firm. He walked on, even though dirt and cobwebs. He had a destination in mind, clearly.

They finally came to a stop outside a pair of doors. Unlike the rest of the way, which had been dirty and dingy, the doors were sparkling clean. Made from iron and painted in pastel colors, they rose as high as Gandalf. There were relief sculptures around the door, but Bilbo could not really figure out what was going on there.

Thorin turned to him with a serious expression, extending his hand, “The key?”

Bilbo pulled into the pocket of his pants and pulled it out. There was something that always remained close to Bilbo- his beads, first and foremost, and then the key.

Thorin pushed the key into the keyhole which was almost hidden under a sculpture. As he turned it, Bilbo expected a lot of noise, but to his surprise, none came. Even as the door was unlocked, and pushed back, there was no sound.

“What-”

“Shh!”

Bilbo blanched, blinking. There was no one around. As Thorin pocketed the key, he took Bilbo’s hands in his own and pulled him inside.

The moment they stepped inside, the torches on the pillars lit up. Bilbo watched in fascination as columns of a hall came into his view.

The door shut behind them, again making no noise. The whole Hall was illuminated. On the pillars, that rose high up into the sky, there were fine sculptures. The portrayal of battles, stories told, and many designs that were typically dwarven yet not. The ceiling was lost to Bilbo, and he was sure even Gandalf could not have seen that place if he stood there.

Thorin walked on, and Bilbo watched the columns pass. The Hall was wide, with no end on either side, darkness taking over the limits of the Hall. There was no sound, not even their own breath. Air seemed to still, yet every step they took was peaceful. There was no hurry, no excitement. Just existence.

They came to stop on a platform that raised slightly above the ground. Thorin sat down on the edge, pulling Bilbo to sit beside him. The hall seemed to end soon after, but there was nothing else. It was barren, technically, yet full of presence.

“What do you think?”

Thorin’s whispered question made Bilbo blink owlishly. He looked around, mouth parted in awe, “It’s...beautiful.”

“Beautiful?” there was a hint of teasing in his voice, “I did not think you would find Dwarven workmanship beautiful.”

“I found you beautiful, did I not?”

That considerably shut Thorin up, a tinge of pink of his cheeks. Bilbo smiled triumphantly, before looking around again.

“What is this place?”

“The halls of Mahal.”

That certainly got Bilbo’s attention.

“Not that one,” Thorin explained in a hurried whisper, “This...the place you see right now, Bilbo, is untouched by any Dwarven hands. No Dwarf carved this room in the center of the mountain, nor did they sculpt the stories on the pillars.”

“What does that mean?” Bilbo asked in a whisper.

Thorin smiled wistfully, “The story goes that every mountain that Khazad resides in has a hall akin to this. I know Ered Luin had one, much smaller but there nevertheless. It is said that mahal himself crafts these halls, for his children. For if nothing else works, his children should have the familiarity of stone around them.”

Bilbo listened in fascination. The halls looked something outwardly, truly. The floor was far too smooth, the designs perfect. Not that he doubted the craftsmanship of Dwarrows, yet it was beyond the realm of mortals.

“Am I allowed in here?” he finally asked, something akin to worry lacing his voice.

Thorin smiled, pushing the curls out of bilbo’s face. They had grown much longer, and would be easy to braid-

His hand landed on a small braid, hidden by the other curls. As Thorin ran his hand over the braid, he recognized the pattern.

“The Urs?” he croaked out, having Bilbo turn in question. He saw where Thorin’s eyes were fixed on the side of his head.

“there was an issue,” he explained with a soft smile, “The Urs decided they would adopt me.”

“What issue?” Thorin demanded, frown etched on his face.

Bilbo cringed. “Well...”

“Bilbo, you can tell me.”

Bilbo looked down at his hands, concerned and confused. To tell or not to tell.

Eventually, he decided that it would be better if they had no secrets.

“Your father was not very forthcoming of me,” Bilbo explained slowly, “I think he believed I was the reason you almost died. There was a truffle, and he threatened to throw me out of the kingdom. The Urs adopted me so I was skin and Thrain could do no such thing.”

When Bilbo finally looked up, Thorin’s face was scrunched up in pain. Almost as if someone had physically slapped him.

He immediately took Thorin’s hands in his own, smiling softly, “It’s all right, it’s in the past. I gave him my piece of mind.”

“It should have never happened,” Thorin said gravely, each word filled with regret. Then, his eyes flashed with determination as he tightly held Bilbo’s hands, “I promise it will never happen again.”

He pulled back and opened his palm. Without speaking, Bilbo knew what Thorin was asking for. He pulled out the small box that held his beads, along with Thorin’s own marriage bead. He placed it on Thorin’s open hand.

Bilbo watched as Thorin put the box down at a place that seemed to be designed for the same. He wasn’t sure if the smallholder was there before or not. When Thorin opened the box, the beads seemed to glow.

“Thorin,” Bilbo said softly as Thorin pulled out the bead, “What are you doing?”

Thorin looked at him with a soft, tender smile, “Do you trust me?”

“Unfortunately.”

Snorting softly, Thorin pulled Bilbo closer, turning in such a way that the side of his head was in front of Thorin’s face.

As he took a section of Bilbo’s hair, Thorin said, “With this bead, I swear to look after you. Till the end of time, and beyond.”

Bilbo’s eyes widened, “Are you saying our wedding-”

“Shh,” Thorin said softly, and Bilbo compiled, “I promise to stand by your side, in times akin to happiness and in moments of sorrow.”

He took out another bead and pulled the strands of hair that ran to the back of Bilbo’s head, “Your counsel would be words of faith, and your anger my burden to bear. Allow me to hold every part of you close to me, thus I may never lose you no matter how great the distance between us.”

Thorin nudged bilbo to turn the other side, and Bilbo compiled, blinking back tears. “With this bead, I promise to put you first. You are my One, the other part of myself. My duty is first to you. I may have many faces, many roles, but they all come next to my duty to you- to love you, to cherish you, to respect you and to protect you.”

Bilbo blinked. It was similar, but not the same vow Thorin had said before.

As he pulled out the last bead, and Bilbo sat with his back to Thorin, he said, “I ask you to be a part of my life. I promise to share with you my hopes and dreams. Let our worlds come together, so that we may build a life together.”

Bilbo blinked as the last bead was clasped into place. He sniffed, wiping away some tears that had gathered around. When he looked back, Thorin was smiling, with tears in his own eyes.

“It’s my turn, I believe,” Bilbo said softly.

Thorin nodded, though not before saying, “It’s not a necessity.”

“Oh shush,” Bilbo scolded lightly, “It’s a wedding, a partnership. Both parties have to consent, you know.”

Thorin smiled and turned sideways so Bilbo had access to his hair. He took the hair in his hands and began to speak. Not the vows they once shared, but what belonged to them now,

“With this bead, I swear to always keep you first. Not before my dignity, mind you, but otherwise always there. I swear to love you, even when you come sweaty and filthy inside our home because I know I cannot stop you from doing that. I promise to sit there with you at the end of the hard day, but I will say ‘I told you so’.”

Thorin chuckled, stopping the urge to shake his head. Bilbo was grinning as he continued, “I promise to accept your family as my own and be kind to them, but only because we are in your mountain at the moment. I promise to follow your weird traditions, only because you followed mine.”

“Bilbo,” Thorin chuckled, shaking his head.

Bilbo laughed too, clasping the bead in place. He opened his palm to Thorin, who placed the red ribbon on there. It had seen better days, its color fading slightly, and the edges were torn. But as Thorin and Bilbo clasped their hands together, and Bilbo tied the ribbon around, he knew it was perfect.

“More than anything else, I promise to love you. To stand by your side. To love you for who you are, for the sides I know and I don’t. I promise to cherish you. You are my lover, my friend, my companion, and my home. With this ribbon, binding us forever, I promise you that I will never leave your side. For better or for worse.”

Thorin pulled Bilbo’s head close to him, his eyes closed. Bilbo sighed as their foreheads touched, closing his eyes.

“I promise I will never leave your side, for better or for worse,” echoed Thorin.

A strong gush of wind wrapped around them. Their hands were bound, others resting on each other’s head and neck. The beads clasped tighter around their heads, the ribbon pulling them closer.

Yavannah had blessed their wedding once, years ago, in the Shire. Mahal gave them his blessing in his Halls, as they sat bound by love.

* * *

The messenger came late at night, close to dinner time. Fili was sitting with Frerin, talking of the treasure that was promised to Bard for the rebuilding of Dale.

“His Majesty Thorin has requested for your presence.”

“Whose?” Frerin asked.

“Your and Prince Fili’s.”

The two exchanged a look. The last they had seen Thorin he was devouring Bilbo, which was not a sight Fili ever wanted to see again in his life.

Frerin nodded, wrapping up the reports and planning to talk of it later. He stood up, and Fili wheeled himself out of the rooms.

Thorin’s chamber was just beside Frerin’s own, so it wasn’t a long walk. However, instead of leading to his bedrooms, the guard led them to the adjoining sitting room. It was as big as a bedroom, with the chair pushed to the walls. A table stood below a bookcase, with scripts of old lying there. They were clearly cleaned recently. Opposite the chairs was the door that connected Thorin’s bed chambers to this sitting room.

The room was empty, and Frerin took a seat that was farthest from the main door. The door connecting to Thorin’s chambers were shut. When Frerin gave Fili a questioning look, the younger Prince shrugged.

The two waited in silence for Thorin to come. Instead, the main door opened, and Balin entered with a quizzical look. Dwalin followed him, arms crossed.

“Anyone know why he has asked for us now?” Dwalin grunted. By the looks of it, his meal was interrupted.

Fili shrugged again. Balin took a seat close to the end, and Dwlain grunted again, deciding to stand. The door opened once again to admit Thrain inside the room. Everyone greeted him with a short bow, as was right for a King. Thrain gave his acknowledgment shortly, taking the seat in the farthest corner, close to Frerin.

They did not have to wait for long, for the door joining Thorin’s room to his sitting room was pulled open shortly after. As he pulled it close, Fili could see Bilbo sleeping soundly on the bed.

Well. At least he was resting.

It was thrain whos poke up, “Thorin are you-”

Thorin shushed. Thrain blanched, and Fili had to bite back a smile.

“Bilbo’s asleep,” he whispered in a way that explained everything. Thrain grunted, clearly not happy with the news but not unhappy either.

Fili looked up at his Uncle. He looked better than he had in a long time. His face was full of color, his hair brushed and-

A surprised shout escaped his mouth. Fili immediately clasped his hands around his mouth as everyone turned to him in question. Thorin raised a perfect eyebrow.

Fili pointed ta his head, whispering furiously, “You are wearing your marriage bead!”

Everyone turned to Thorin in shock. Indeed, beside his right ear hung a braid held together by a wooden bead. Nobody could see exactly what was etched there, but Fili knew the bead. He had seen it, back in Beorn’s garden.

“yes,” Thorin nodded in affirmation, taking a seat beside Frerin, “I was told that Bilbo had already told you about it.”

“Yes,” Frerin said hesitantly, “He did...tell us about it.”

“then there should be no reason for the question.”

“Well, laddie,” Balin said, albeit hesitant, “He said you were married in the Shire. We haven’t exactly been privy to the details.”

“Because they aren’t important to anyone but us,” Thorin said firmly. Balin nodded in understanding.

Thrain grunted, shifting in his seat, “Thorin, are you sure of this?”

The look Thorin gave his father could only be described as a glare, “he is my One, father. I have accepted him, and Mahal gave us his blessings.”

“He did?” Frerin asked quizzically, “Wehn?”

“Just an hour ago. We wed in his temple, again.”

Everybody seemed to shout at once, but Thorin shushed everyone, looking at his bedroom door in concern before glaring at all.

“You shouldn’t be walking around in such a condition!” hissed Balin.

“I am fine,” said Thorin, “The pain is not there.”

Balin looked most displeased at the answer but thought better than to say anything. It was Dwalin who spoke next.

“First you get married in secret, then you renew your vows and do not inform anyone.”

Thorin looked at Dwalin, unimpressed, “You want a feast? I will get you a feast.”

“Knowledge would be nice.”

“I am telling you this now, aren’t I?” he said pointedly, effectively shutting all up, “And everyone else will know when it’s time. This is about Bilbo and me, and it will remain so.”

Nobody could contest that. Ones were sacred matter, and anybody would be a fool to suggest otherwise.

Fili cleared his throat, a genuine smile on his face, “Congratulation, Uncle. I can officially call Bilbo _Idad_ now.”

That earned him a soft smile for Thorin, “That did not stop you before, _Mizmith_.”

Fili shrugged. Having it officially done and recognized was surely a good thing.

Balin cleared his throat, bringing the attention to himself, “Well, Thorin, it’s late. I believe it is something urgent that has made you summon all of us here now.”

The dwarf immediately turned serious. He sat up, nodding, “It is. I have made many blunders in the recent past, some aided by the sick mind, others merely stupid decisions. But one mistake that I have made with a clear mind, and the one that needs to be rectified as soon as possible, is the one regarding my Husband.”

That earned everyone’s full attention. Thorin looked everyone in the eye as he spoke, “I need to claim Bilbo as my Husband. Officially. Let all dwarrows, Men, Elves, and Hobbits know that he is the Husband of Thorin Oakenshield.”

Fili was unable to stop the smile that spread on his face. Frerin looked shocked, unsure as to how to react. Thrain was aghast but did not voice any complaints. Dwalin’s eyes were wide, and it was Balin who spoke.

“laddie,” he said softly, “I understand your need, but we have just come out of a war. These are turbulent times, and such an announcement could topple a lot of views.”

“So?” Thorin asked, unaffected, “the views of others do not matter.”

“But the Dwarven Lords...”

“Have no hold over me anymore,” Thorin said firmly, “While in Ered Luin I kept quiet for this reason, but now I see no reason to.”

“Thorin,” Thrain said, earning the attention of all, “ _Inudoy,_ you are the Crown prince. You cannot marry someone out of your own race.”

“You will find, _Adad_ , that I have, and Mahal himself has nothing against it,” Thorin said firmly, “The Line fo Durin stands strong, and you have enough heirs to carry on the mantle to.”

Thrain looked aghast, “But- I can not contest what you have with the Half-Hobbit, is sacred, but official proclamation is not a child’s play.”

“I am aware, and that is why I need to do this,” Thorin said with a frown. Taking a deep breath, he walked over to the table.

“When I gave Bilbo our marriage bead on the ramparts, you should have had my braids for dishonoring my One. Yet none of you did, and it’s no one’s fault but mine. He should have had to face such adversities here, nor such suspicion from my own family. But he did. The Urs had to claim him as their family for him to stay in the Mountain, _Adad_. Tell me, have I not dishonored my One enough? Does he not deserve the respect?”

Nobody had an answer to that. Thorin sighed, bowing his head, “I thought I was keeping him safe, from the prejudices of my culture. By not claiming him as my Husband, I thought I was allowing him to be free. Instead, I just bound him with unseen shackles that made his life worse.”

Head held high, Thorin looked at all present, “I love Bilbo, more than anything else. He is the most important thing in my life, and I have ignored him for long enough. No more.”

Balin was the one who dared to speak next, “Thorin, if you do this, the people can turn against you. I speak openly and freely in front of Lord Thrain and Lord Frerin, that you can lose the claim to the throne fo Erebor.”

“Then I will,” thorin said easily, “As I said, there are enough heirs in the Line of Durin.”

“You could have to leave the mountain if the opposition is strong.”

“Then I will follow my Husband back to the Shire.”

“Ugh,” Fili slowly cut in, “I think it is a good time to mention that Bilbo has written off his home to his cousin.”

Thorin’s eyes widened, “Cousin? Which cousin? For Mahal’s sake, do not tell me he wrote it to those, those _Sackville-Bagginses!_ ”

Everyone looked confused. Sackville-Bagginses sounded like a foul curse.

“I do not know that,” said Fili, “he said someone called Drogo?”

Thorin’s shoulder immediately drooped. “Drogo,” The name sounded like a prayer, “Yes, he is a good lad.”

With that, Thorin turned to the rest of his family, “You see? This Hobbit has left everything for me. Everything that he held close. Bag End, his home was the most precious treasure he had, and he gave it up to come on this quest.”

Frerin, who was sitting quietly until the moment, decided to speak up.

“ _Nadad_ , I hear you,” Frerin began, “I see where you come from. As my brother, you have all my support in whatever decision you make.”

Thorin smiled gratefully, but Frerin raised his hand, “However, the matter of kingship is different. We have ignored the question until now, and I do not think it is wise to conclude at this moment. Not when half the population of Erebor is still not here. This decision, I think, will have to wait until Dis is here with the people of Erebor.”

“Indeed,” thorin agreed.

Frerin looked at his father, smiling slightly, “ _Adad,_ do you wish to remain King?”

Thrain opened his mouth, but no answer came out. He had always learned that he needed to be King, there was no option. But now, his son was asking him for a choice. Thrain did not know what to say.

“I am not sure,” he offered shortly.

Frerin nodded, looking at Thorin, “I do not know you as a King. The moments we spent together were under the influence of madness, and I cannot judge you nor can you judge me.”

Thorin nodded, a bit hesitant and guilty.

Frerin turned to Balin, “Here’s what I propose: Send out the proclamation of Thorin’s marriage. Do not offer any details, not now. The caravans would reach Erebor by late Spring, early summer. Let’s see how the reception of Dwarrows is, and then decide what is to be done closer to the next Durin’s day. Until then. _Adad_ , Thorin, and I can rule over Erebor together. Decide on what needs to be done by the vote. The council will have to collectively answer to all of us. As for Thorin’s private life, I think nobody has a say in it.”

Balin opened his mouth to respond but instead found himself contemplating. Dwalin huffed, nodding, “Sounds like a plan.”

“Thorin’s marriage proclamation can still cause some stir,” Balin pondered.

“That’s why I say offer no details,” Frerin said with a smile, “We can think over the matter with cool heads later.”

“Yes,” Thorin agreed, “As of now, I am sure that this needs to be done. Are you with me?”

Fili nodded immediately, a proud smile on his face. Frerin smiled, offering his own support. Dwalin grunted, which was as close to an agreement Thorin would get. Balin was hesitant, but he nodded nevertheless. Thrain was the most confused one, saying neither yes nor no.

In the end, the decision was made.

* * *

“You did what now?”

The morning sun was already out. Its rays were spread over Thorin’s bed, basking both thorin and Bilbo in its warmth. Bilbo’s curls were closing under the light, and Thorin played with them as the Hobbit looked confused.

“I asked Balin to send out a proclamation, making our marriage public,” thorin said slowly and clearly, a smile on his face. As Bilbo continued to blink and stare at him, Thorin frowned, “Did you not want that?”

“Well, I,” Bilbo sat up on his arm, looking at Thorin in wonder, “Of course I did. I just, I never thought you would actually do it.”

Thorin’s hands stopped in Bilbo’s curls, and the smile dropped from his face.

“that’s my mistake,” Thorin said softly, “My actions have rarely matched up to my words. I promise you, that will never happen again.”

Bilbo plopped down on the bed, settled between Thorin’s chest and his arms, eyes fixed on the ceiling, “Well, all right.”

Thorin sighed, looking to his side, “Are you not happy?”

“I am,” Bilbo said rather sadly.

“Then?”

He hesitated, still looking up at the ceiling. Thorin waited patiently for Bilbo.

“I am afraid,” he said softly, turning to face Thorin, “it all seems too perfect, just that.”

Thorin frowned, “Whatever do you mean?”

Bilbo’s hand automatically dropped on his stomach. Thorin cupped his hand, smiling softly as Bilbo sighed, “It’s just- the mountain’s reclaimed, everyone’s alive, we are possibly going to have a babe again. Doesn’t that feel too perfect to you?”

The dwarf pouted slightly, running his other hand through Bilbo’s curls. The braids were messed up- he would do them again. Every day, if he was allowed to.

“No,” Thorin said, “Not really. Not after everything we have been through.”

“Well, you have some very huge hurdled, no doubt, but I did not.”

Thorin snorted, turning on his side to face Bilbo, “That’s a lie, Bilbo Baggins. You have been through enough. Before this quest, and during. You and I both deserve some rest. Some peace. Stability.”

Bilbo sighed, looking up at Thorin, “I am sacred, Thorin.”

“What are you scared of, _Ghivashel_?”

“Of losing this miracle,” Bilbo said softly, patting his stomach, “We have lost them twice before. You ignored your urge. I suppressed mine. What is to say the same won’t happen again?”

“Bilbo,” Thorin said softly, a sad smile on his face, “We keep believing.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Bilbo admitted, a tear escaping his eye.

“Trust Oin, then,” said Thorin, “he knows what he is doing.”

“Well yes...”

“And if worse comes, we will kidnap Fili and run away.”

To that, Bilbo let out a hearty laugh. Thorin grinned as Bilbo wiped away his tears and looked at Thorin with a playful grin, “Not Kili?”

“From what I hear, he has become a sort of negotiator between the Elves and Dwarrows. I would not deprive Erebor of such a great mind.”

Bilbo swatted Thorin on his arm, earning a playful grin, “Stop making fun of the poor boy. At least he has some brains, contrary to the lot of you.”

“Just because he likes that Elf,” Thorin said dryly, “I have yet to meet her properly. Mahal knows what she is like.”

“She is perfectly fine, I assure you,” Bilbo said with a huff, “Don’t you dare go about going against your own nephew after you found love out of your own race.”

Thorin hummed, running a hand through Bilbo’s curls. Bilbo nestled deeper into Thorin’s embrace, looking up with a wistful expression.

“Can we take Vorin too?” he asked suddenly.

Thorin snorted, “I don’t think Frerin would take kindly to us kidnapping his child.”

“Oh, and Dis would?”

“She won’t know until we are far away from this place,” Thorin smiled.

Bilbo hummed, both his hands on his stomach, “And where will we go? Gondor? Rohan?”

Thorin shrugged, “We could go east. Or north. Places you and I have rarely heard about, Lands nobody has ever seen.”

Bilbo smiled, running a hand through Thorin’s beard, “it’s growing again.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Are you going to cut it?”

That gave Thorin a pause, “I...don’t think so.”

Bilbo hummed appreciatively. He plopped up on his elbow, pressing a kiss to Thorin’s lips.

“I love you, you mad dwarf.”

Thorin grinned, kissing him back “I love you too.”

Even as the sun rose high up, waking up the rest of the world, the couple remained blissfully enclosed in each other’s arms. Many things could happen, many things would happen, but at the moment, Thorin Oakenshield and Bilbo Baggins were together happy, content, and in love.

It was all that mattered.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UGHHHH, oh my god. This is over, it's actually over. I really can't believe it, but at the same time, I can? Well, I have been planning the sequel to it for ages, and maybe I will write it down too! But that would be more of a post-Erebor quest family drama with lots of characters and just usual fluff and angst and all that. 
> 
> But this story, God, this story took up a whole semester. I am not even kidding. Close to six months- I started this in July, and am ending it in December. God. I was so worried that I would never be able to finish this because I have a very bad habit of abandoning stories. I mean, even on this account, or on fanfiction.net, you will find I have a ton of unfinished stories. But I completed it! And that is all thanks to you guys!
> 
> Your engaging reviews, picking up on stuff, just telling me what you loved! Some of you wrote such lengthy reviews that I would just keep reading them over and over again! Many of you disagreed with how I felt about some characters and situations, and I even changed a few things so that it makes more sense thanks to your inputs! I just, I can't start taking names but you guys have been here form the very start, other joined recently. It's been a ride, guys.
> 
> I have been having a very hard time in the past few months, with breakdowns and death and just usual mental health issues. Writing this was one of the things that kept me afloat and reading your reviews made my every day better. It was a process that I used to go through, first thing in the morning going through my email to see how many have commented, what do you have to say. I wanna be a writer, and this story with my oh-so-many-subplots and plot twists and characters and cliffhangers had you guys reception in such a positive way!
> 
> Sorry for all the times I made you cry. All the bad cliffhangers I left you on. Thank you for reveling in the fluffy times. I just wanna say, thank you. For staying with me on this journey. 
> 
> I will add a few one-shots in this series sometime in 2021. Maybe even start with the sequel. Who knows. But as of now, this where the curtain falls. 
> 
> Thank you, guys. I love you all. Thank you for staying with me.

**Author's Note:**

> PLEEEEEAAAASSSSEEE leave a review. pretty, please?


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